The Sorcerer Hangs at Dawn
by Lenle.G
Summary: Arthur doesn't know what to think when they drag him in. It's his friend, his Merlin, but a man from the town has told his father that he's a evil sorcerer of some kind. And Arthur knows sorcerer's are evil. All of them... right? So if he's a sorcerer, why is Merlin, sweet, dependable Merlin... so... good? Can Arthur make his mind up on magic in time to save him from the gallows?
1. Chapter 1

The Sorcerer Hangs at Dawn

One

Arthur sat in his throne and tried to keep his face set in an impassive stony mask, just like his father, as he surveyed the boy before him. But his insides felt like they were burning.

They'd just captured him. A man from the lower town had said he'd seen him committing the crime. A man who Arthur knew for sure was jealous of the boy's position in the royal household, and who felt only hatred for the boy. A man who would undoubtedly be given the boy's job if...

He looked at the boy, who lay on the floor before him. Curled slightly on his side where he had been kicked by a guard. The boy who'd made no effort to correct them, and who'd not reacted at all to the rough manner of the guards. Not fought back. Not even tried. A purple bruise blossomed its way across his cheekbone, ugly and harsh against his pale skin. It looked... so wrong. It shouldn't be there. He just wanted to leap up from his throne, and duck down on the floor and fold the boy in his arms and tell him that it would be alright._ It'll all be alright. _But he couldn't. He was Prince Arthur. He couldn't. Not with his father watching.

_How did that idiot always get into these messes anyway?_

Morgana had turned a horrifying shade of deathly white when they'd dragged him in; pale and pasty as a ghost. Gwen had had a quietly muttered, but passionately heated argument with her before storming out of the room in tears. He saw Gaius also pale horribly, the old man's skin turning the most unnatural white Arthur had ever seen, as he sunk to his knees when his Father's declaration was made to declare that the boy had committed the highest treason, punishable by hanging, punishable by death;

"Sorcery."

And Merlin, poor sweet Merlin, his manservant, his friend, had looked up at him with big, blue, apologetic eyes, and Arthur had felt something clench tight in his chest – an iron fist around his heart.

But Arthur had said nothing, remaining impassive to the turmoil inside his ribcage, as they dragged the boy away to the dungeons at his father's command.

"The sorcerer hangs at dawn."

_Merlin was to hang at dawn._

**A/N: Hi guy's! Seems like so long since I last wrote a fic! Would really love it if you could just drop me a quick review, they can be really great in boosting my confidence in my work, so if you want more, tell me!**_  
_

**Sorry for short chapters, but it does mean I can post them faster than if I was to write super-massive-long-ones-of-destiny (Technical term)!  
**

**Stay feelin' the Aster.  
**

**Lenle G.  
**


	2. Chapter 2

Two

It was Gwen who came to him first, in floods of tears, begging Arthur to do something, anything, telling him that this was wrong. That he would never use magic. Could never. That their carefree laughable Merlin was innocent. Of course he was innocent.

"How do you know he's done nothing?" Arthur had asked, and she'd faltered her face falling from hopeful to truly distraught. She then told him simply:

"He's my friend. It doesn't matter if he can use magic or not. But, Arthur, this is Merlin - you know Merlin; he could never hurt anyone... He's our friend! Arthur..."

And he was. He was Merlin. Merlin who had about as much magic as Arthur himself did. Stupid, bumbling, idiotic Merlin. Merlin who couldn't polish his boots right, let alone be a sorcerer. Merlin who was his friend. His friend.

"You know this is wrong Arthur" She'd said, shaking her head, tears in her eyes, "You know this is wrong." And Arthur does know but...

"My Father believes he has sorcery, Gwen, and if he does..."

"If he does he'll die! If he doesn't he'll die! Like my father! There is no fair trial for sorcery, Arthur! You have to help him! We can't let this happen! Merlin's done nothing wrong!" Arthur attempted a comforting hug, but she glowered at him and shoved him away from her, sobbing.

And then Morgana had rushed in, white faced and pleading. Begging him to go against his father. Against everything he'd been told. But he couldn't. That was treason. But Merlin was...

"Merlin broke the law" He told them, and he felt his heart darken a little inside him as he pulled his face into a scowl "and he will pay for his crimes." _Crack._ The force of Morgana's hand across his cheek snapped his head to the side. A look of pure, unbridled fury on her face, her teeth bared like some wild animal.

"How dare you Pendragon! He's your friend!" Arthur couldn't find the strength and courage to look her in the eye. Morgana glowered at him a moment before; "Fine!" Morgana exclaimed in that high and mighty way of hers "If you won't help him, we will!" And she stalked of, grabbing Gwen's wrist and dragging her after her, towards Gaius's chambers.

_What if Merlin hadn't done this?_ A niggling voice in his mind whined.

_What if he was innocent? _

_Merlin must be innocent._

A warm, fuzzy hope flip-flopped and blossomed inside him, then was doused as quickly as it came. His father would not give a sorcerer a proper trail. Morgana and Gwen could not help him.

_Merlin would hang at dawn._

And there was nothing he could do to save him.

Overwhelmed by a sense of hopelessness, he found his legs carrying him unwittingly towards the dungeons.

Towards the man he knew he could not save.

Towards his best friend.

**A/N: Two chapters in one day? Don't you feel privileged? XD**

**Short chapters, quick updates, seeeee?**

**Hope your liking it (and my plentiful use of adjectives so far) drop me a review to tell me what you think! :D**

**Stay Whelmed.**

**Lenle G.**


	3. Chapter 3

Three

"Merlin." And he was there, looking up at Arthur with those big, blue eyes. "You have magic?" It was a question, rather than a statement.

"Arthur, what does it really change if I did?"

And Arthur found himself staring at the boy before him, the boy who had spoken so softly that the prince barely heard him. _What did it change? _His heart beat faster in his chest. He felt a little sick. Dizzy.

"It changes everything Merlin. You would have been lying to me if you do!" And that was the worst part,_ had Merlin been lying to him all this time? _The idea left him feeling bitter and empty.

But Merlin sighed and settled back in his corner. He looked so calm. How could the idiot be calm? Did he not understand? Arthur clenched his fists. Stupid Merlin.

"I am to die at sunrise, Arthur, guilty or not." And he smiled; a small, sad smile; resigned to his fate. Arthur felt a sudden bubbling of anger in his chest. Merlin had done nothing wrong! Only sorcerers deserved to die like that. _Not Merlin._

_Not skinny, pathetic, girly Merlin._

_Not stupid, big-eared, big-hearted Merlin._

_Not brave, resourceful, fearless Merlin. Not his Merlin. Merlin who had stood by his side through thick and thin._

"I will get you out of here, Merlin." His earlier resolve crumbled into dust. In that instant he found he did not care what his father thought. "I will, you've done nothing wrong. I..."

But Merlin was silent, and just shook his head.

"Its fine, Arthur. Don't go getting in trouble..." _over me_ – was the unspoken message.

Arthur let go a growl of frustration. He _would_ speak with his father.

He _would_ save Merlin.

What_ever_ it took.

Because Merlin was his _friend._

He stalked towards the stairs, determination splashed across his face, teeth bared.

"I_ will _help you, Merlin"

And that's when he missed the fourth step. When his foot slipped on the one below and gravity took over. When he found himself falling backwards. The stone rushing up to meet him. When he heard Merlin shouting out in a foreign language.

When his best friends eyes flashed gold.

And he froze in mid-air; then rather than crashing to the ground in a fall that would have most certainly split open his skull, he landed slowly and gently on the ground, as if he was as light as a feather.

_Magic!_

_Merlin was using..._

_But that meant..._

_Meant...?_

_What?_

_**A/N: Dun dun duuun! So Evil on the cliffhangers right? *Appropriate evil grin* Yet another benefit to evilly short chapters.**  
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_**Virtual cookies for reviewers?  
**_

_**Hope you enjoyed this chappie,  
**_

_**Lenle G.  
**_


	4. Chapter 4

Four

"Merlin." The boy still had his arm raised, the gold in his eyes had faded to a wild, terrified look and Arthur found his own voice on an exhale. "That... that was..."

"Magic." Merlin's own voice was no more than a whisper. "I've only ever used it for good, Arthur, only ever for you, and I..."

"No!" Arthur did not want to hear this. It felt like he was being stabbed repeatedly in the chest. A horrible cold crushing pain. He couldn't listen. His eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill over. He forgot how to breathe.

Merlin was a sorcerer. A filthy, corrupting, evil sorcerer. A Liar. He'd lied to him.

_Had their whole friendship been a lie too?_

"No! Arthur... I... please... I..." Merlin's blue eyes were wide and pleading, begging him to understand. But what was there to understand? Merlin was a...

"Shut up! Sorcerer!" the words were an angry hiss on his lips. Escaping before he could keep them in check. He whirled around; unable to face him, and stalked up the stairs. Ignoring the boy who called after him, words a desperate heart-wrenching howl off his lips, words broken by sobs.

"Arthur! Arthur! Please! Come back! Arthur!"

Arthur vaguely registered the sounds of a guard shouting somewhere below him, and the cries of his name faded to choked, painful sobs.

There was a loud crack, like someone being struck hard across the face.

A howl of pain.

Another crack.

Then silence.

**A/N: Gah! Such a short chapter! Apologies readers! will attempt a little bit longer next time!**

**Reviews keep me writing! And free virtual cookies are still available for reviewers! :3  
**

**Thanks for reading,**

**Lenle G**


	5. Chapter 5

Five

He looked down from the balcony where he stood next to his Father. At the right hand of the King. As Prince of Camelot. He looked down at the wooden gallows as they hung ominously over the gathering crowds. The rope swaying slightly in a light wind. He felt sick. _He's a sorcerer._ He repeated over and over in his head. _He's a sorcerer._ He'd not told his Father what had happened. It dimly registered the boy had probably saved his life. He would have cracked his head open if he'd fallen. Merlin had saved him. But he was still a sorcerer. Still Evil.

"_He's my friend. It doesn't matter if he can use magic or not. But, Arthur, this is Merlin - you know Merlin; he could never hurt anyone... He's our friend! Arthur..."_ – the memory of Gwen's words echoed in his head. He shrugged them off with a shiver. _Magic was evil. Right?_

His father shifted next to him, looking around, impatient.

Apparently he had noticed Morgana's absence. He'd asked Arthur about it, and gathered from his son that Morgana was not feeling well, and had retired to her chambers. As Morgana had told Arthur that morning.

Arthur who stood proudly beside his King on the balcony. His face stony. Impassive. Cold.

Uther nodded in approval.

He felt Arthur was doing well in this, learning his own manservant was a traitorous sorcerer must have been a shock.

The hangman's noose fluttered in a slight breeze and Arthur was suddenly sure he was going to be sick. He set his jaw hard, and tried to tear his eyes away. To quash the feeling bubbling in his stomach. They settled upon Gwen in the crowd, who stood, staring up at him with tears in her eyes.

_Why?_ They asked. _Merlin is your friend._

Arthur frowned. _He is no friend of mine._

And they dragged Merlin out. Looking skinny and worn and tired. His skin purpled by bruises that stood out dark and cold on his pale skin. A stream of dried blood clung to his face – protruding from a split lip just under a particularly nasty bruise. Another patch of deep red in his hair, sticking the dark fibres together in clumps.

The sick feeling intensified.

He'd been beaten.

Brutally.

Gentle, kind Merlin, who'd never hurt a fly, had been punched, kicked, _hurt_. Arthur found his hand gripping the pommel of his sword so tightly his knuckles shone white. _If he was evil? Why did this all feel... so wrong?_

Arthur distantly recalled the golden glow of his magic washing over him like a gentle tide, stopping time, stopping his fall. He remembered how it had felt so good, so pure. How could something like that be evil.

How could Merlin ever be evil.

Merlin stumbled as he was dragged, and Arthur resisted a smile at his clumsiness.

Idiocy like that could never be faked.

The goodness clear in Merlin couldn't be. Their friendship wasn't just some sorcerer's trick.

Never.

Merlin was right to lie to him.

Look how Arthur had reacted.

What kind of friend was he?

Looking around, Gwen was sobbing onto Gaius's shoulder. Gaius who looked ready to pass out. Arthur caught a glimpse of Morgana's tear-streaked face looking from her high glass window. The crowd were shifting worriedly. Many knew Merlin. Knew him as a friend. A loyal, trustworthy, wonderful friend.

The knot of sickness in his chest grew tighter, clenching around his heart.

_Merlin._

**A/N: Well... isn't this cheerful... *Evil grin* I just love cliffhangers, what can I say? I'm just evil :3**

**Thanks for reading, reviews are hugely appreciated, so please leave me one :)**

**Thanks,**

**Lenle G._  
_**


	6. Chapter 6

Six

As he was led up to the block. Arthur really was sick.

His stomach had clenched uncomfortably, and he dashed behind the curtain drapes to throw up in a conveniently placed vase.

"Must have caught whatever Morgana's got. Make sure you see Gaius after." Uther eyed his son worriedly as he returned, but the gaze was cold and empty. _See Gaius after. He'd said so nonchalantly, like 'after' was nothing, no change to the world. 'After'... After was when Merlin would be..._

Arthur dry heaved into the vase, his whole body shuddering, sweat dripping off him, he felt like screaming, crying, howling. Everything hurt, all focused in a knot on pain in his chest. In his heart._ Merlin. Merlin. Merlin._ Arthur stumbled back onto the balcony, and took his place by his father's side.

Just in time to watch as the noose was placed around Merlin's neck.

_This was wrong. This was wrong. This was wrong._

_It didn't matter if Merlin was a sorcerer. He was his friend. His best friend. He trusted the dark-haired boy with his life. And he always would, if he was a sorcerer or not._

_He was Merlin._

_Stupid, idiotic, girl's petticoat; Merlin._

_Who always found some dramatic way got get into a mess. Who'd been there for what felt like forever. Who'd saved his life._

_In more ways than one._

_I can't let him die._

It was then, when he was struck by this sudden startling realisation, that his father called out imperially;

"Hang him."

**A/N: Fwahahahahaha! Evil-est Cliffhanger yet! but fear not! Next chappie will be up soon! Just re-reading it for mistakes (I tend to make them lots, tehehehee).**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Will do crazy dances for reviews! :D**

**Lenle G.**


	7. Chapter 7

Seven

"NO!" The wild scream was torn from his throat raw and filled with pain, and before his brain could register what the hell he was doing he'd jumped.

Just as the block was kicked out from under Merlin's feet. The boy swung in the air, kicking and struggling. His hands at his throat. His mouth open in a silent scream, lips turning blue. Head back at a horrible angle. The crowd screaming. Gwen sobbing. Merlin's wide eyes locked with his, tears pouring down his cheeks, as Arthur fell from the balcony. _Arthur._ They screamed. _Arthur, Help!_

He landed with a crash on the hay cart parked below, and rolled onto the cobbled ground. He shoved frantically through the crowds that parted readily for him, and he drew his sword with a metallic _shingggg_.

"Arthur! What do you think your...!"

But Arthur had eyes only for Merlin was his struggles became weaker. _Help. Arthur._ He didn't want to die. He was so scared. So, so scared. _I don't want to die Arthur!_

But his eyes were sliding closed, lashes fluttering, as his thrashing slowed and his fingers slipped from the knot round his neck. Lips parted trying to draw in air, blood tricking over white skin.

Suddenly Arthur found himself by the boy's side, no idea how or when he'd reached him, and with a wild howl of "MERLIN!" swung his sword in a great arc, slicing through the rope.

Merlin's body hit the wooden platform with a dull thud.

Arthur can't tell if he's breathing.

So many people are shouting, crying out, his father's voice about them all, bellowing at him. But the sound has become a dull buzz, background noise, as he falls to his knees at Merlin's side.

"Merlin." The boys name is a choked whisper off his lips. "Merlin." His voice cracks as he shakes a limp shoulder. "Merlin!" Urgency creeps in then. Is he breathing? Is his heart still beating? Did his neck break? Is he...? Is he..?

Someone's pulling him away then. And he cries out, shoving the person away. Gripping the shoulder again, turning the boy onto his back. He won't leave him. Won't leave his side. But everyone is shouting, and its Gaius, Gaius is there, cradling Merlin's head and gently feeling his neck. For a pulse? For breaks? For breath?

Dark purple blue and black bruises are blossoming painfully around the boys neck, and his face is chalk white, red blood stark against the skin. His neckerchief is pulled away so Gaius can check his neck properly, and it's pushed into Arthur's hands.

He stares down and the bloodied triangle of cloth. The blood staining the cloth a darker brown. He faintly hears his father shouting at the guards, and he wonders why they haven't reached him yet.

He looks up and his heart skips a beat at the sight. Gwen and Morgana. He's no idea when Morgana left her room, but they're there, brandishing swords at a cluster of guards, from halfway up the gallows steps. His eyes sweep up unwittingly to his father and Uther flinches at the cold pain and desperation in his son's eyes.

"Stand down!" he shouts to the guards, and then addresses his son, his voice angry and bitter. "Arthur! What's the meaning of this?"

And Arthur opens his mouth, searching for words, to explain himself as ordered. But he can't answer, can't find the words, can't explain, because he doesn't even know if Merlin's alive or not.

If he was too late.

**A/N: My chapters always look so much longer on Micorsoft word, then they get uploaded and become midget chapters. Ah well.**

**Hope you've enjoyed the story so far.**

**Yes, yes, I do love beating Merlin up, it's a bad habit really. Fwahahahahaha (Evil, remember? It's hereditary.)**

**Thanks for reading, and (hopefully) reviewing!**

**Lenle G.**


	8. Chapter 8

Eight

Arthur pulls himself to his feet and surveys the crowd, people are everywhere, all staring at him, Merlin, his father. Some look angry, some worried, some scared. Some looking between the Prince and the King. Some just staring at Merlin.

Merlin.

He turns and it feels like his heart stops.

Gaius is frantically pushing on Merlin's chest, weathered hands overlapping and clenched into fists in the dip of his ribs. Arthur looses the ability to breathe as he realises Merlin's... not. His chest isn't rising and falling save for the frantic pushes to his chest. Then Gaius' head snaps up, frantic, pain-filled eyes meeting Arthur's.

"Help." The one word is cracked and broken on his lips, almost hidden under sobs, but Arthur somehow hears it over the hubbub of hushed whispers from the crowd, and falls to his knees by Merlin's side.

What do I do? Was an unspoken question, as Gaius tilts Merlin's head gently back, exposing the horrendous black bruises at his neck, and brings Arthurs hand up to carefully pinch his nose.

"Make your lips form a seal over his and breathe into his mouth. His chest should rise and fall, simulating normal breathing." Gaius instructs grimly, and Arthur does without a second thought, seeing the reassuring rise and fall of his chest, before pulling away. Nothing happens.

"And again." Gaius instructs, so Arthur repeats the motions, trying to ignore how soft and still warm Merlin's lips are, and the metallic tang on blood from the boy's split lip. How nothing has happened.

Gaius then goes back to pushing his hands against the boy's chest.

"Come on Merlin...! Come on!" His fists clench tightly against his boy's chest, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Come on!... Again Arthur!"

And so once more Arthur seals his lips over his manservant's, and breathes for him, two long breaths that seem to be so short, so ineffectual, but feel like they last forever, until Gaius is pressing on his chest again.

"Merlin..." the name is a murmur off Arthur's lips, numb where they'd touched Merlin's. The numbness felt like it had spread through his body, leaving a long, sad ache in his chest. _It hurts._

The first tears spill down his cheeks and drip off his chin. He just feels so numb, everything a blur.

He doesn't realise he's crying until he breathes into Merlin again, and finds his lips wet where they rest over his.

"Merlin..."

Then the boy chokes, the world snapping back into to focus at the pained wheeze and stuttering rise and fall of his chest. Gaius shouts the boy's name; joy in his voice and Arthur has to resist shaking Merlin's shoulder again to check he's still there and real. The prince feels like his heart is skipping over its own beats as he cups Merlin's cheek gently in his hand and watches the dark eyelashes weakly flutter.

"Merlin...? Can you hear me? Merlin?" He receives no reply but the shallow rise as fall of his chest with each raspy breath, but Arthurs heart swells, and he scrubs away his tears. He had to keep his hand on the boy's cheek, he can't move it away for fear Merlin will suddenly disappear. A soft, painful groan falls off Merlin's lips and though his eyelids stay heavily closed, the pupils can be seen moving behind them.

He was alive.

_Alive!_

He felt like running around, skipping almost, like doing handstands, and punching the air like a jousting fan, and dancing ridiculously like Merlin would, and hollering at the top of his voice.

_He was Alivvve! Yes! Yes!_

"We need to get him out of here." Gaius's tired voice sobers him from his elation, and he looks up to where the old man is carefully measuring Merlin's pulse, then to sweep across the crowd and up at his father.

Uther's furious.

He's glaring down from the balcony at Morgana and Gwen, who are standing firmly on the third step, defiant against the guards. Against Uther's men. Against Uther.

_Merlin can't stay here. He was still in terrible danger._

"Idiot" he murmurs, but he's not sure if he means Merlin or himself."Father!" Arthur shouts up to the balcony. A heavy silence falls over the crowd as Uther Pendragon's furious glare is turned on his son. "This man..." I gesture behind me to where Merlin lays, weak and still struggling for each breath, "...is innocent."

His father's scowl deepens andhushed whispers break out in the crowd.

Murmurs of decent.

Arthur realises that it's not just Merlin at stake, but his father's reputation, the kingdom. If rumours get out that Uther tried to hang an innocent man, there would be an uprising. Equally, if they believe he's allowed a sorcerer to go free, every sorcerer, evil or otherwise will act against the crown. Those that use magic for evil would try to overthrow the king and those that use magic for good, like Merlin, his Merlin, would be furious, and would turn their backs on Camelot forever. The people would lose faith in his father, in the monarchy, in Camelot.

But he has to save Merlin.

He looks back at his father and takes note of the angry purple face glaring back. His father can't see a way out of this without hurting anyone or destroying the kingdom either. His father wants to kill Merlin. For the sake of the crown.

But Arthur won't let him.

But he won't send the kingdom into decent either.

He needs a idea, a stupidly clever idea, the kind Merlin would come up with.

Then it hits him.

He knows exactly what stupid, self-sacrificing Merlin would do.

He'd have to take the blame on himself.

Prince Arthur will have to take the fall.

For Camelot.

But more importantly, for his friend.

**A/N: Was CPR even invented? Ah well... it was now :P**

**Just go with it ;)**

**What do you guy's think? Should they kiss at some point? Or should I just leave it at friendship and have the CPR (practically kissing in this instance) be left as a 'it was necessary' thing... I mean... I couldn't let Gaius do the CPR after all... right?**

**Anyway, leave me your thoughts in a review, did you like it?**

**Longer chapter than usual! Yey!  
**

**Thanks for reading,**

**Lenle G.**


	9. Chapter 9

Nine

"This is my fault." Arthur announces to the crowd, arms spread wide in an all-encompassing gesture. "I am young, and naive, and I..." He thinks quickly, what can he say, what could possibly excuse such treasonous actions... "have been under the spell of an evil sorcerer that I have only just broken." He tries to ignore the shocked look on his father's face. "This man" he repeats "is innocent" the crowd is hanging onto his every word, captivated by the action. Gwen and Morgana are both staring at him with _'what the hell are you doing?'_ expressions on their faces, mouths gaping comically open. "He is also..." And here Arthur pauses, eyes squeezing tightly closed as he takes a deep breath under the weight of what he feels he needs to admit. "My best friend." Morgana gapes wider at him.

"Arthur..." Her fine eyebrows knit together in a frown. _The peasants are only here for the drama, _he snorts to himself, _so let's give them a show._

"He's saved my life," Arthur declares dramatically "many times, like when he pushed me out of the range of a knife when we first met, and in return for these deeds, I have just managed to break the spell of the evil sorcerer who had enchanted me. The dark spells" he waved and wibbled his hands mysteriously around in what he thought to be a 'dark spell' like gesture, "made me believe that this man, Merlin, who we all know as kind, considerate and who could never, ever, hurt anyone, is some kind of crazy evil sorcerer," he wonders if his lie sounds even remotely convincing as he puts in a laugh "now how ridiculous was that? I can't believe I fell for it Merlin? A Sorcerer! Definitely ridiculous!" he tries to laugh again, but realises how hollow and empty it sounds and quickly stops. But the crowd is falling for it, chatting amongst themselves about the man they know as Merlin.

"Such a sweet boy" he hears the cook whisper to the maid standing next to her, "would never hurt a fly" The maid nods wisely.

"And always so helpful! He always asks if he can help at all when he sees one of us struggling! Why I remember the time he helped me carry three huge baskets of laundry up all those stairs to the bedchambers in the North tower,"

"I remember that!" The cook chips in "He was late bringing the Prince his lunch, poor boy got shouted at for almost twenty candlemarks!" Arthur cringes at this, remembering the time well, if only he'd given Merlin a chance to explain his lateness before shouting at him. "Forgot his own lunch too, silly skinny thing, I always say he needs fattening up!"

Understanding flits across Morgana's face as she gets what he's trying to do.

"Merlin," Arthur continues as the voices find a lull "My manservant, has experienced firsthand the evil that sorcerers can..." he couldn't bring himself not to use the word 'can', leaving the possibility of magic being use for good dangling like a carrot before his captivated audience. "...bring to the land. He did not deserve this unjust, painful fate, and I ask you place the blame for this atrocious act solely on my young shoulders. I was naive and acted foolishly, and I hope I can be forgiven."

The people cheer for him like a brave hero, but inside he feels dirty and cheap as Gaius smiles tiredly; looking older than Arthur has ever seen him.

Then Morgana is suddenly there with a stretcher she's obtained from god-knows-where, and their gently pulling Merlin's limp body onto it. He distantly realises his voice is ordering the people to stand apart and make a path. Moments blur together as Arthur watches as the prone form is rushed away towards Gaius' chambers to be treated for his injuries, Morgana holding up the opposite end to the old man with Gwen in tow, still brandishing both hers and Morgana's swords.

"This is all my fault" _I should have acted sooner, saved him faster_. "Father," I turn to address the King once more "I shall alone atone for my crimes" crimes of treason, he knew, but the unspoken '_if you hang him, you hang me too'_ hung in the air dark and ominous like a man from a... Arthur suddenly feels sick all over again. He believes his Father won't harm him, he is, of course, the crown prince, but he worries for Merlin, Merlin he desperately needs to be beside protecting, and the dark, murderous look in his Father's eyes. He wouldn't punish him for treason right? After all, no-one would expect that kind of punishment, it would look suspicious with Arthur's perfectly concocted lies, and Arthur knows Uther wants to protect his own reputation desperately, which he cannot do if he punishes Arthur as a traitor to the crown. And the people are cheering him. You can't punish a saviour.

He feels disgusting for it though.

Like he should be punished.

Because he didn't save him fast enough.

"We shall speak of this inside, Arthur." The glare made his blood run cold, as Uther turns away from the balcony and heads inside.

Arthur follows at a snail's pace.

Feeling like he's now heading to his own execution.

**A/N: So for those of you wondering how on Earth they were going to get out of there, now you know!**

**But now Arthur's in trouble! They just don't get a break do they?**

**Fwahahhaa.**

**Due to most reviewers wanting just a friendship fic, I'll leave it so it can be interpreted as such. :D  
**

**Thanks for reading, drop me a review and telll me youurrrr thouuughghhhtttssss!**

**Lenle G.**


	10. Chapter 10

Ten

"Arthur," His father's stern glare chills him to the bone; it's full of a bitter coldness that reminds him of famine-causing frosts, and deadly ice lakes. It's just the two of them in the room, Arthur looking up at his father as Uther rests one hand on the edge of his throne, fingers almost splintering the polished wood with their tight grip. "Do you even understand the treason you have just committed? A sorcerer, Arthur! A sorcerer!" Dark stormy eyes narrow at his son and his teeth bare in a scowl. "Have you not realised the treachery of sorcery, Arthur? The dangers? It is only used for evil! For committing terrible, terrible sins, and all who practice the deadly art are corrupt and evil. Why, Arthur, why save such a... foul creature from the pyre it so rightfully deserves. How many of our people will he kill if left to roam Camelot free like this! It's not acceptable Arthur!"

"He's not evil!" Arthur can't help the outburst, and he struggles to match the force of his father's glare with his own. He has to be strong. For Merlin. "He's not a sorcerer!"

"That's just what he wants you to think, Arthur! You're... you must be under... some kind of spell!" A horrific kind of realisation dawns in Uther's eyes, but Arthur shakes his head fiercely.

"I am under no such thing. Merlin is a good, loyal friend. He has saved my life!"

"With magic!"

_Yes!_ "No!"

"Arthur magic is evil, used only for sin, and you need to understand..."

"No! Father! You need to understand!" Arthur whirls round and snaps. Uther falls silent, allowing his son time to speak his part. Arthur nods gratefully. "The man from the town, Eldric, saw no such thing as Merlin using magic, I am quite certain that he wished for gold coins and a job higher than his current station. Eldric knew you would offer him the job as my Manservant, just like you did when Merlin lost his. As a reward! He was lying, his greed condemning a good man, as Merlin is, a good man!" _Isn't he? Because Merlin's friendship was never a trick, a lie, and even if the man, Eldric, had really seen Merlin using his magic (the idiot should be more careful if so! Honestly!)_ _he wouldn't be believed._

"Are you saying I was wrong?" there's dangerous glint to Uther's eyes "That my judgment is flawed? Are you accusing me, Arthur, of making a bad judgement?"

"No Father!"

"Then what, Arthur, **are** you trying to say!"

"That Eldric is the evil one! Greed and power is all he's after, and he's hurt a good man in the process! A good friend!"

"These feelings of... friendship... you hold for the boy... they are just fabricated by evil magic? How do you know you're not under his spell! Arthur! Of my poor boy! Why is he manipulating you like this!" And Uther grips his son's shoulders tightly with both hands, the look of fear and desperation and sadness and pain in his eyes overwhelming and he pulls is son tight to his chest and strokes his fingers though the soft blond stands like he'd done when Arthur was just a little boy. "I can't lose you too." His voice was cracked and pain-filled, and the tight grip encircling him revealed tremors in the Kings arms. "Dammit, Arthur."

"He's my friend." Arthur whispers. "He's not capable of hurting anyone, he doesn't have magic. He has no potential or ability or aptitude for anything that takes time and patience and hard work! It's obvious he could never be a sorcerer!"

"Your were risking your life for this boy! Foolishly! You would never put yourself in such danger!" Uther pulls away, and shakes him by the shoulders. "You could have been hurt! Killed! By the guards! By the crowds! By the body" Arthur cringes "falling on you! You could have died in that stupid jump off the balcony of yours! What were you thinking! Was it the spell?"

"No Father! I am under no spell! Don't you think, if I were, I would have protested right from the start? From the moment Eldric made the accusation? I didn't... because... because... I... I believed he had magic too... that... that he'd lied to me! I was hurt! Afraid! Father!" and Arthur can't believe he's admitting this to his father, he's supposed to be courageous, strong, brave! He feels like such a fool. "But then I realised..." _what a true friend his is, magic or not_ "he's a good person! And... anyway... he's much too much of an idiot to be capable of magic!" Uther snorts at this, and Arthur can't tell if it's in an agreeing manner or not.

"Your little cover story was clever, Arthur, I'll give you that." But he sounds so angry about it "And Because of it, I now have no choice. I cannot kill the boy for sorcery."

"No, you can't. Clever of me don't you think?" Arthur's smug smile sets his teeth on edge. Arthur's heart swells, he's persuaded his father! Merlin would be alright!_ Safe!_

"Clever of this, dark spell controlling you to say these things perhaps! Sorcerers are dangerous, Arthur cunning and evil. Sorcerer or not, I will not allow the boy to stay in Camelot." His father says, and Arthur feels his heart drop though his stomachs like a stone. "He is to leave as soon as sufficiently recovered. I will not have a sorcerer in my kingdom! He is to be banished!"

"**What? No!**"

"He cannot, will not stay here! I will not have... him... loose in this castle! In Camelot! Understand, Arthur, the dangers a sorcerer presents!"

"He's not a sorcerer!" Arthur cries out angrily, feeling like someone has an iron grip on his heart and is twisting it cruelly, he'd thought for a split second there that he'd persuaded his father. The crushing of that hope, that joy, sent splinters of pain like red hot lances through his chest.

"If you say so." Uther says in a patronising, irritated voice that instantly lets Arthur know he doesn't believe a word he's said. "Once out of range, I'm sure the sorcerer's spell over you will end. Don't worry. He'll be sent back to whatever decrepit place or ungodly hellhole he came from."

"But...!"

"Arthur..." Uther's voice is full of warning, and Arthur knows in that instant that he won't be able to change his father's mind.

Merlin would live. His life was protected.

But he could no longer live it in Camelot.

At Arthur's side.

Where he should be.

Always.

Arthur turns away from his father and storms out the hall, tears barely contained in angry blue eyes.

He'd think of something. He'd have to think of something.

**A/N: Noooo! Where will Merlin go! What will Arthur dooo? Will Uther ever stop being evil? Will there be unlimited rice pudding, excetera, exetera.**

**And if anyone gets what I just (poorly) referenced, they can have a free virtual cookie.**

**Thanks for reading, drop me a review, they're greatly appreciated!**

**Lenle G.**


	11. Chapter 11

Eleven

Arthur goes straight down to Gaius' chambers, throwing the door open wide, eyes reflecting this action as they survey the scene.

A small, pale figure with tousled sweat-damp dark hair lies unresponsive and swathed inbandages, in the middle of a camp bed. Gaius' had set it up near the large age-stained worktable, against the cool stone of the walls. The old man himself was slumped wearily in a rickety wooden chair at the bedside, old, wrinkled hands clasping one of the pale skeletal ones than hung limply atop the blankets. A wet rag was laid on the boy's fevered forehead, and the only colour in the porcelain face was two spots of a horribly unhealthy red blotched on each cheek, like someone had comically applied that thick lumpy makeup Morgana had bought (and had promptly smeared all over the inside of his wardrobe in revenge for forbidding her from sword training with the men on a daily practice, so that when he opened it to retrieve his royal circlet, he got covered in the damable stuff) once.

Arthur finds a sad smile on his lips, as he takes a seat on the floor next to the bed, eyes never leaving his friend.

"Sire..." Gaius murmurs, and then looks down at him with tired old eyes. "Would you rather have a chair?"

Arthur shakes his head, and murmurs "this is fine" before laying his own hands over Gaius's.

Against the young Prince's rough sword-callused palms, the old man's frail hands feel like thin paper, soft and fragile, patched and liver spotted and wrinkled with age, strong blue veins dancing their way under the delicate skin. The knuckles and clenched tight over Merlin's hand with surprising strength, as if they wish to keep reaffirming he's still there. Still alive. Arthur stares at the pale face of his friend until his eyelids feel heavy and start to slide down. He didn't realise how tired he is.

Exhausted in fact.

"He'll be fine." Gaius's murmurs quietly, as if trying to convince himself more than Arthur. With one hand he gently turns over the cloth on the boy's head to the cooler side. "He has a high fever, but he's healing well. His injuries..." here the old man trails off, looking forlornly down at the crisp white bandages, eyes lingering over the ones on his chest and round his head. He cups a pasty cheek and gently allows a thumb to sweep over the curved surface, fingers sometimes dipping low to trace over the ridiculous curve of those ears. "Oh Merlin..."

Arthur sighs. He knows Merlin will have scars from some of his injuries, if he's truthful, he knows that probably most will scar over. It doesn't take much to scar the skin, as he knows from his own experience, and from seeing other knights with injuries. He takes note of the long, red scratchy lines etched into the flesh and heavy black and purple bruises that are not hidden by bandages, and mar the otherwise perfect white skin. He stares at the discolouration round the boy's neck, angry red marks and dark bruises blossoming there. The distinct pattern of red rope lines stand out amongst the mess. And his Adam's apple bobs painfully as the boy unconsciously tries to relieve some of the pain in his throat by swallowing. Arthur supposes Gaius must have given him something to prevent that pain, and put him in a healing sleep.

If these are in injuries he can see, Arthur wonders how serious the bandaged injuries are, but doesn't dare ask. They all seem so wrong on Merlin, small, fragile Merlin, who shouldn't be lying here injured. Who should be happily bouncing around as usual, brining him his lunchtime meal. Bantering with him, like the ridiculous idiot he is. Arthur is suddenly overcome with a feeling not unlike homesickness. He realises it's because he's missing how Merlin usually is. He feels only worse with this realisation.

Arthur rests his head on the side of the cot, the top of his head just touching the side of Merlin's knee, just to know he's still there, with the boy's hand still cupped between one of Gaius' and his own. The crown prince lets his eyes fall closed, and allows his breaths to even out to match the slow steady draw of Merlin's breath.

_I'm sorry._

A single tear slips down his cheek, then another then another, until he's sobbing, and Gaius' is stroking his blond hair with one those large, old hands. But everything feels so wrong in the world. Because his father won't let Merlin stay. And Arthur will never see him again. And he's _so, so sorry._

_Merlin._

He's quieting now, letting the lull of sleep take him, his eyelids feeling too heavy to open, stuck wetly together with quickly drying tears.

_Merlin._

He sighs, unconsciously nuzzling his face into Merlin's blanketed knee, and wiping his tears away on the rough fabric. His knees are starting to ache, but he ignores the feeling, being drawn by the lull of sleep. The darkness of his closed eyes warm and welcoming and...

**CRASH!**

He jerks bolt upright. Heart pounding. breaths quick and harsh. Whirling round. Eyes wide to see...

Gwen.

Her mouth is open in a little shocked 'O', the bottom of her skirts and the floor wet, and a metal pouring jug on its side on the wet flagstones. Her eyes dart to Merlin, checking if he's still sleeping soundly, _he is_, before they rise and meet Arthur's and she blushes prettily.

"Sorry," she hisses quietly, embarrassed, while Arthur scrubs at his face and tries to look all manly, and not at all like he'd been crying and falling undignified-ly asleep on the floor, "tripped over the hem of my dress and dropped the jug of cold water for refilling the basin", she indicates vaguely towards the floor near Merlin's bandaged head, and Arthur sees a small wooden basin bowl filled with water and the spare cloth to be placed on Merlin's forehead to bring down his fever resting in it, soaking up the liquid. "Water's gotten warm, so I was brining him some fresh and cool from the well in the courtyard" here she sighs, and peels up the other cloth currently resting on his forehead, then lays her palm against the heated skin, frowning. "Looks like I'll have to go again now." She presses a gentle kiss to the pale forehead and carefully switches the cloths and places the slightly cooler, wet one from the basin onto his forehead, under the bandage line.

"I'll go." Arthur's body is up and moving before he can register what he's doing "Can you stay here and watch over him for me?"

Gwen smiles sadly at him, wringing out her skirt and nods the affirmative.

"Of course."

"Gaius!" he calls to the old man, routing through bottles on the top shelf across the room. "I'm going to get some water."

"Thank you, Arthur" He smiles tiredly. Disarmingly. "I don't suppose you could help an old man out and clear that water there up first?"

"Oh!" pipes up Gwen "and fetch me a dry dress from my house? At Arthur's puzzled look (_where was her house again? What dress? How's he supposed to_...) she says: "Ask Morgana" and turns back to tend to Merlin's forehead. "Oh!" she exclaims again, turning back, her dark curls whipping round her face "and I haven't picked up the laundry Merlin usually collects on a Sunday yet either, do you think you could pop down there too?"

"Oh, and we'll need lunch fetching too... Arthur, do you think you could? Bring something light, like a thin vegetable broth, For Merlin?" Arthur just stares at him so he adds "Ask the cook."

Arthur nods, trying to remember all he was just told as he's handed a bucket and a mop. He stares at them in his hand. He's seen servant using one, it can't be too hard... right?

"Oh, and Arthur? It would be a great help if you could also clean out my leech tank when you're done."

Suddenly, Arthur thinks he feels like Merlin.

**A/N: has Oreo's! Don't you all feel so jealous!  
**

**Who liked Arthur being piled with Merlin's jobs? I did. *Grin* Have fun with that leech tank Artie :P  
**

**Thanks for reading,  
**

**Drop me a review and tell me what you think! (Who else loves the new reviews thingee? It's soooo much easier! Now you have no excuse! Fwahahaha!)  
**

**Lenle G.  
**


	12. Chapter 12

Twelve

Merlin's recovering well, it's been three weeks, and Gaius' has forbidden him from even trying to talk, after the pained horrified wheezes he made when he first woke up, that Gaius assures him will heal up fine.

Arthur will never forget the horrendous sound his voice made in that moment, and the wild, terrified look in his eyes and he clutched at his throat and sobbed. His heart clenches in his chest thinking about it.

So, in the meantime, Merlin is unable to speak and so is stuck communicating with this fumbled kind of crazy language he seems to make up on the spot, from an assortment of large, ridiculous gestures that could mean absolutely anything at all. It's really starting to get on Arthur's nerves, making him all the more frustrated and upset.

Gaius' has bandaged from under Merlin's chin to the base of his neck up tightly to prevent further injury via movement to his throat and neck ("Which you're so lucky not to have broken young man!"), and Merlin just keeps looking up at Arthur, with big blue puzzled eyes, that just seem to scream 'why?' all the time, as Arthur does his usual chores for him and helps him sit up, and get changed, and eat, which is always a horrible struggle with his throat.

Merlin's numerous cuts and bruises are all healing well, his fever breaking after the first five horrifically worrying days, and he's doing better, walking now with minimal support from tables and chairs and, usually, Arthur. When Gaius finally told Arthur that Merlin's chest was bandaged so tightly because the guards had broken at least one of the boy's ribs, Arthur had stared angrily at him for a moment, before storming down to the dungeons, face thunderous, without a word, and it had taken the combined forces of both Gwen and Morgana to convince him not to beat the two men responsible to a pulp.

Arthur sighs and plonks himself down on the bed next to Merlin, as the boy waves his arms at him like long bandaged tree limbs, trying to communicate. Arthur sighs again.

"I don't understand..."

Merlin frown hard, shrugs and points at the ceiling, then Arthur. Then shrugs again, points to the ceiling, then at Arthur again.

"Merlin... what...?"

At this, Merlin nods enthusiastically. _Was one of those words he just used right? _It was all just like some kind of crazy charades.

"Merlin?" Arthur tries out, and the boy frowns comically, accentuating his actions so they're understood. Well the word 'Merlin' must be wrong, so: "What?" He tries the second word he used instead, and this time Merlin nods, his head bobbing up and down ridiculously, his ears poking out from under the bandage round his head, and the mop of dark hair. "What?" he repeats, to yet another nod, meaning 'what' must be right, and part of what Merlin was trying to say. Then Merlin points at the ceiling, then Arthur.

"What? Ceiling? Me?" Merlin rolls his eyes and holds up two fingers. He'd got two of the words right, but he could see Merlin getting frustrated.

"What? Ceiling? Something?" Arthur tries, and Merlin shakes his head.

"What? Something? Me?" Merlin nods sharply and blows out a breath that makes him wince.

"What?" Merlin gestures upwards again. _Upwards? Up? _ "Up? Me?" Merlin turns and nods enthusiastically. "What, up, me?" Arthur stares at him a moment before it clicks, "What's up with me? You're asking if something's wrong?" and Merlin nods to let him know this is what he meant.

Arthur blows out a breath. "Nothing, Merlin, I'm fine." He rubs a hand across his tired eyes, and Merlin begins flailing around all over again in his attempt to communicate.

"Merlin..."

"Merlin, what do you want to eat for lunch?" Gaius pokes his head around the door, and Merlin looks at him and waves his arms around wildly and incomprehensibly for a moment before Gaius nods, "I'll ask Gwen to fetch some then" and disappears.

It leaves Arthur feeling frustrated.

Because he'd got no idea what Merlin said.

Because he can't understand.

Because he's struggling.

And he hates it.

And this is _all his fault._

**A/N:** **Poor Merlin, Ok, I just wanted to make Arthur feel frustrated and blame himself etc etc here, fwahahahahhaha. Just Evil.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading and double thanks and virtual cookies to everyone who's left me reviews so far, they're really appreciated,**

**Lenle G._  
_**


	13. Chapter 13

Lucky for some

Uther's standing in the doorway, flanked by two guards. And he shouldn't be here yet, because Merlin's still recovering, and Arthur hasn't been able to speak with him properly at all. Because Merlin can't speak yet, and you can't just tell someone 'you have to leave' when they can't say anything back.

But when Uther stands there, angry and cold and demands it, demands that Merlin leaves, the boy looks only saddened and accepting, slowly nodding to show he understands, even when Uther calls him filth, and dirt, and scum and other names that make Arthur's blood boil.

"He cannot leave yet, sire, he is not recovered enough for such a journey." Gaius is imploring, brows creased in frustration, sadness.

"You said he would only have to leave when recovered." Arthur adds, trying to keep the desperation from his voice, and ignoring the hurt look from Merlin that cried out _'you knew this all along?' _Arthur's heart felt like it was bleeding. Merlin couldn't leave. He just couldn't.

Uther grits his teeth.

"He is to leave. Now."

"Then someone shall go with him," Gaius straightens up and declares, already packing a satchel with all manner of herbs, bandages, potions and poultices. "To Ealdor, just over the border into Essetir. To provide for his medical needs."

"Fine, you may go. But be back quickly." Uther scowls turning away, flipping his hand in the air in a 'do as you want', gesture.

"Wait, sire, I fear I am too old for such a journey, I feel someone younger would be a better support for him."

"Yes, yes, send whoever..." Uther rolls his eyes and opens the door to leave.

"I'll go."

Uther freezes at the sound of his son's voice, and everyone in the room turns to look at Arthur, who almost laughs at the knowing look on Gaius' face. The old man had set him up to be able to go with Merlin. Arthur tries to convey his thanks with his eyes.

"Certainly not." Uther scowls.

"It'll be fine, father, I can even drop him before the border if necessary." He tries to sound nonchalant, so that his father won't pick up on his desperation, so he'll let him go. "Anyway, I know where I'm going, I've been there before." _And I felt so out of place in the town he grew up, yet so at home. _Uther narrows his eyes at his obstinate son, knowing the stubborn boy won't change his mind anytime soon.

"Fine." He snaps with a roll of his eyes. "Be back in three days, or I will send guards out after you." But Arthur knows three days won't be enough to get anywhere near Ealdor and back with Merlin as injured and slow moving as he is, even on horses.

"A week."

"A week is far too long!"

"But father... I offered to go..." Arthur thinks quickly and decides to lie "...so I could do some hunting while I'm out, so make it a week? Please?"

Uther's eyes soften at hearing his son wishes to go hunting, and he claps him on the shoulder.

"Very well, a week. Remember to take all of your equipment." Like Arthur would forget, he would have to get the both of them food somehow after all.

**A/N: Hi all!**

**So Merlin's been sent away! Nooooo! Arthur'll have to think of something (and be very careful not to hurt his brain in the process)! XD**

**Oh, and to the reviewer titled 'guest' who I can't reply to, yes! You may have a virtual cookie! *hands over*. And Yes, the ceiling thing was inspired by when someone asks 'What's up?' I always reply 'The ceiling'. Fwahahaha!  
**

**Oh, on that note, I never did tell you what I was referencing in my Author Note of Chapter 10 ("****Will there be unlimited rice pudding, excetera, exetera**"), it was a reference to a Doctor Who Episode called 'Remembrance of the Daleks' with the 7th Doctor... that made me feel geeky... XD  


**Thanks for reading! Drop me a review if you liked it! **

**Lenle G.**


	14. Chapter 14

Fourteen

It was a long two and a half days to Ealdor.

But it was worth it to see Hunith embracing her boy, scolding him gently, and worrying over him, her son, who could only shake his head and touch his throat and she understood instantly, and hugged him all the tighter.

"Oh, Merlin... is... is that permanent?"

She breathes such a sigh of relief when he shakes his head, "Thank goodness" and she presses a kiss to his brow.

"Thank you Arthur," She says once the prince has finished explaining, sorrowfully, all that had happened. "Thank you for bringing him home. Safe and alive." She kisses both their foreheads, and hugs Arthur tightly. He wonders for a moment, that if he had known his mother, if she her hugs would feel like this; all warm and secure, and if she would be as kind and understanding as Merlin's was. Hunith fills him up with delicious food and sends him on his way.

He is about to mount his horse when a light touch catches his shoulder, and he turns to see:

"Merlin." He smiles, and ruffles his friend's hair fondly, mindful of the bandage still circling his brow. "See you." Because he wouldn't, _couldn't_, say goodbye.

Merlin just nods and quickly throws his arms around Arthur in an awkward limb-flailing hug, before pulling back and smiling the most wonderful smile Arthur has ever seen. He then slowly, deliberately brings his hand up in a gesture between them that Arthur recognises as 'Thank you'. The unsaid;_ for_ _accepting my magic and me, and helping me, and saving my life, and bringing me here, and..._ could all and more be seen clearly in his eyes, and Arthur had to wrench his gaze away, guilt weighing heavily on him in the face of such... goodness.

_How could I have ever thought him evil? _

He remembers how halfway through his story, Hunith had corrected him.

"He's a Warlock." She'd said. "Not a Sorcerer."

"There's a difference?" Arthur had asked, feeling stupid and naive, and Hunith smiles at him and tells him:

"A Sorcerer studies magic, learns it, develops it. Warlocks, like Merlin, are born with the powers. He had no choice in whether or not he was magical. He just... is."

She smiled sadly and Arthur felt like his heart was burning.

"Magic is just a weapon, Arthur." Hunith sighs, her hand falling lightly on his shoulder, "Like any weapon, like a sword. It can be used for evil, but... it can also be used for good. It's powerful, yes, and if misused dangerous. But Merlin is a good boy, Arthur, and wields magic for what is good and righteous. Like you wield your sword for what is good, and right."

Arthur just nods, unable to speak.

He understands now.

_If only he'd understood sooner. For Merlin's sake._

_He might have been able to save him faster._

They stand there now, outside Hunith's cottage, he and Merlin, just staring at each other, and Arthur is hit with the most startling realisation that he doesn't want to leave. _That he has to see Merlin again. _

His Father had declared that Eldric, the man who turned Merlin in, is to be his new Manservant upon his return. Arthur doesn't think he will last five minutes in a room with the man, without running him through with a sword.

"I'll come back for you." Arthur promises, but Merlin just avoids his eyes and shakes his head sadly. Arthur frowns. Because he will come back. No matter what excuses he'll need to use, no matter what lies he must tell. He will come back. Suddenly, he wonders if this is what Merlin had felt like, lying about himself for so long. Suddenly the fact he lied to Arthur at all seemed so much less important than it once had, and Arthur wonders why he ever worried about it. Merlin was right to lie. Look how he'd reacted.

Arthur gently grips Merlin's chin and moves the boy's head up so that their eyes meet. "I. Will. Come back for you, Merlin." He let the depth of his resolve seep into his voice "I don't care what it takes! But I am not leaving you here! Merlin! You're my best friend." Arthur confesses, smiling as Merlin's eyes widen and the boys nods towards him to say 'your mine too', and Arthurs smile becomes a determined grin. "Get better quickly, Merlin. I'll be back for you."

_I'll be back for you._

_Merlin._

**A/N: This ones a little bit longer than the last couple! Emphasis on little. But hey, short chapters, quick updates!**

**Really hope your enjoying this crazy little story of mine!_  
_**

**Poor Merlin! Will he regain his voice? I'm so evil. :3  
**

**Drop me a review and tell me if you liked this chappie!  
**

**Thanks for reading,  
**

**Lenle G.  
**


	15. Chapter 15

Fifteen

Arthur hates Eldric.

He's stands, boots perfectly polished, greasy hair slicked back, buttons shined, jacket pressed, laces tied, clothing neat and uncrumpled, nose in the air, perfectly balancing the breakfast tray, on time, at his table, and calling him 'Sire'.

Arthur really, really hates Eldric.

Arthur really, really, really, wants to throw the heavy metal goblet he's just been presented with at the man's head. But it probably would kill the weedy git, with his snobby attitude and greasy dark hair. Not like Merlin, his resilient, ridiculous Merlin. Arthur dearly wishes he could lob it at Eldric, but grits his teeth and resists the urge to throw it. After all, his father might kill him if he did.

With an annoying little _'ahem'_, Eldric sets the huge silver tray down before him, perfectly-shined silver plate piled high with rich meats, fruits and cheeses. Far too much for a breakfast, especially comparing to the much smaller, plainer, simpler meals Merlin would bring, as he knows how Arthur hates anything too rich or spicy or filling in the mornings. There's wine in his goblet rather than his usual water, and Arthur stares at his reflection in it, irritated. He hates to have wine before going out to train with the knights; it dulls and dampens his senses. Merlin knows this. Merlin wouldn't make such a mistake.

Arthur clenches his fist round the goblet.

Eldric would look much nicer with it imprinted in his face. Arthur sighs, and forces his hand off the cup before he does something stupid.

Because his father's warned him to all but 'be nice' to Eldric. The warning involved Uther's dearth-glare and his most threatening tone, that made it quite clear that he would be severely punished if they did not 'get along'. Arthur was starting to wonder if his father's death-glare worthy punishments could possibly be worse than being in the same room as this vile, greedy man.

"Until you can at least find a suitable replacement, Arthur, Eldric shall stay. He's a very talented servant from what I hear, and he will make a fine manservant. Be civil with him, and polite. You may not like the man, Arthur, but he's not there for you to like, he is there to serve you." His father had said.

"Ahem."

Arthur glares up at Eldric as he _ahem's _again; using one high-and-mighty eyebrow to indicate to his yet untouched 's been making that noise all morning, right from when he entered, and standing neatly at his bedside, where Merlin should be. Arthur has never hated waking up so much, even Merlin haphazardly flinging open the curtains and cheerfully wittering is was better than being woken by those persistent little _ahem_ noises.

The _ahem's_ followed Arthur all through getting dressed, as Arthur was forced into his least favourite clothes (including that hideous too-small green dinner jacket one of the noblewomen had given him years ago), and the _ahem's _made him correct the positioning of his knees and elbows so they could be stuffed more efficiantly into sleeves and trouser legs.

Merlin would have gotten it right, and would have known dinner jackets were irritating and unnecessary for a simple breakfast alone, and would have been so lax about dressing him, that Arthur would have had the freedom to practically dress himself.

And then there was that meal...

Whereas Arthur would have invited Merlin to sit with him, and laugh as bits of bread and sometimes cheese were pinched off his plate, Eldric stood stiffly by the side of the table, enquiring if Sire would like more wine, and pouring it before Arthur has the chance to protest. Eldric had gotten all the wrong foods, and had pushed his chair far too close to the table, and was just, hovering, irritatingly.

Arthur had to resist the strong, strong, urge to punch his smug little face in.

Because he betrayed Merlin for gold. Because he was the man responsible. Because he was a greedy, selfish, snobbish, evil, self-centred, licentious, little git.

And because he got on Arthur's nerves.

Horribly.

"Ahem." Eldric was pulling his chair out from the table now. Arthur could manage perfectly well, thank you! "We have a tight schedule to keep, Sire" he gave his ridiculous little bow. The man seemed to use it every five minutes.

Before Arthur can protest, his chainmail shirt is being dragged over his head, and Eldric is holding out sections of his armour, all gleamingly polished (and Arthur remembers uncomfortably that polishing his armour was the last thing Merlin had done before...) and buckling them into place too tightly, making his chainmail press uncomfortably against his skin.

"There we go, sire." Eldric smiles, teeth all white and shiny and nauseating.

Arthur thinks if he hears another 'Ahem' or 'Sire' or sees another stupid little bow he'll go crazy.

He misses Merlin.

**A/N: Awwwwh. Poor Arthur. Anyone got any large pointy sticks for jabbing Eldric with?**

**Anyway, if you liked it, drop me a review! Because they make Lenle happy, and a happy author = a author inspired to write, which = more chapters for you!**

**Thanks for reading,**

**Lenle G.**


	16. Chapter 16

Sixteen

When Arthur returns from practice, he finds not Eldric in his room waiting for him, but Gwen.

"I miss him" she sighs, and Arthur doesn't have to ask who or what. He understands.

Because he misses him too.

She's sitting on the edge of his bed, staring out of the huge windows near them. The ones that Merlin always threw the curtains open to every morning, so that the sunlight would wake him along with his calls. Arthur sits next to her, and slings a chainmail encased arm round her shoulders.

"Arthur" She pushes at his arm with a weak giggle, "Get off, your armour is heavy!" And Arthur finds himself smiling slightly for the first time since he'd left Merlin.

There's a soft tap at the door, and Arthur sighs pulling his arm back from round Gwen's shoulders and stands up, supposing it'll be Eldric, and formally calls:

"Come in".

The almost-smile makes a reappearance as Morgana enters.

"Arthur, I've set Eldric mucking out the stables" she smirks "hope you don't mind." They stare at each other for a moment; then break out into laughter.

"Thanks Morgana" Arthur smiles, flopping backwards onto his bed with a sigh so that he was staring at the ceiling of his bed canopy.

"Arthur...?" He feels the bed dip slightly with Morgana's small weight, balancing out the comforting weight of Gwen on the other side.

"We're going to get him back." Arthur tells them determinedly, and they hmm softly in agreement.

"How?" Gwen whispers, and Arthur just shrugs uselessly, because he's got no clue.

Morgana also sighs and flops down on the bed next to him, back to the mattress and staring into space, it's a heartbeat of a moment before Gwen mimics the action, and folds into his other side.

"I miss him." Arthur confesses aloud, because he feels he should, and he feels two hands slip into either of his own and squeeze tightly.

"We all do." Morgana whispers. "We need to help him get back. We need to think of something! Anything!"

"He'd be safer in Ealdor." Arthur whispers, because that was the clinching point, the one that was niggling in his mind, filling him with dread. _Maybe Merlin wouldn't want to come back_. "What if he's happier there?"

"His friends are here, Arthur. His loves us, Gaius, his work. If we don't help him get back here, he's just going to do something stupid to sneak back in that'll likely get him killed. We can't stop him from coming home Arthur." Gwen squeezes his hand tighter.

"Even if it's dangerous?"

"Especially if it's dangerous. Merlin always seems to find trouble" Morgana smiles fondly. "We need to think of an idea to get him here in the safest way possible... got any ideas Arthur?

"I don't know... I can't think of anything at all that won't get all of us killed." Arthur sighs rubbing at his face with the crook of his elbow. Because they couldn't very well just march Merlin in here and demand he stays. He'd be killed on sight and they'd be tossed in the dungeons.

"We need an idea like the brilliant one you came up last time Arthur! How on Earth did you think of that? Let's start from there."

"I just thought like Merlin!" Arthur sighs again, feeling stupid and useless. He's got no idea where his last idea came from. It was far too clever for something he'd usually think of. He'd just thought like Merlin.

"Then we have to think like Merlin too!" Morgana sits up, arms wide and fists clenched in a determined gesture, and declares it like it's the most amazing breakthrough in the world.

"But... I just tried to think of the stupidest thing ever! And I came up with some random rubbish about being enchanted!" Arthur resists the urge to bang his head against a bedpost. _This wasn't going to work! They needed a real idea!_

"It was really quite brilliant though, Arthur. Exactly like something Merlin would think of! I think we have to think of something stupidly brilliant. Something no one will suspect. Something Merlin would think of."

"What would Merlin think of? If it were one of us? If it were Arthur?" Gwen wonders aloud.

"Merlin would probably do something completely stupid like dress me up like a girl so he could laugh at me before sneaking me back in." Arthur snorts, despair creeping in. Stupid ideas like that were useless here. He laughs, remembering seeing Merlin carrying that dress up the Great Hall corridor once; dressing like a girl is exactly what Merlin would do. What a stupid idea.

Arthur sighs, his own little joke over with, and he turns to Morgana. She's staring at him deadly seriously, like he's as complete genius.

"Arthur..." Gwen's looking at him the same. They're not seriously contemplating such a stupid idea as dressing Merlin as a girl? _Are they?_

"Are you?"

"Are we what?" Morgana frowns.

"Thinking of dressing Merlin up as a girl! That's a stupid idea! Ridiculous! I was just joking!"

"Exactly! It's the most stupid idea; one no-one in their right mind would expect it!"

"Merlin can't enter Camelot," Gwen adds, the idea growing on her, "but if he looks like someone else, it wouldn't be Merlin entering! He could even get his job back! No-one would ever know!"

Slowly, it dawns on Arthur that this is true. If no one can recognise Merlin, no one can arrest him.

"It'd have to be a very convincing disguise..." He worries aloud, lip caught between his teeth and being nibbled on.

"We can manage that!" Morgana leaps up with a grin. "We're mistresses of makeup over here!" Gwen leaps up too and both girls squeal together excitedly, hands clasped and leaping around.

"We're going to disguise Merlin so no one knows it's him!" Gwen cheers, and Arthur grins.

_Merlin can come home!_

**A/N: Ok, who thinks when they dress Merlin as a girl, it should look really convincing and believable, and they are totally amazed and use it as a disguise, or who thinks that he should look completely ridiculous, so they have to disguise him as a different boy instead to sneak him in?**

**Thanks for reading! Drop me a review to tell me what you think!**

**Lenle G.**


	17. Chapter 17

Seventeen

Arthur's sitting in his darkened chambers, a single candle burning softly by his bedside, the heavy red velvet curtains drawn tightly closed against the chill of night. The tiny light reflects off all the metallic surfaces in the room, his armour, the goblet by his bed, the candlestick holders, and creates a warm, gentle glow. Despite this, he shivers, dressed only in his night clothes, and not yet tucked into his warm bed. A pile of clothing sits next to him atop the covers, and in his hands he clutches one of his jackets, searching frantically in the pockets.

He's lost the keys to the armoury; he stuffed them in one of his jacket's pocket's he's sure, but he can't remember which one, so he's rooting through all of them. This one has no keys in; he grabs the next, a blue one.

He shoves his hand into one of the pockets, searching round for the keys, and his fingers brush the edge of something soft.

Arthur freezes with the realisation that this was that jacket he wore when...

Arthur slowly pulls out a triangle of crumpled red cloth with frayed edges. He stares at it a moment, then smoothes the fabric out over his knees, running his fingers over the bumps in the roughly hewn fabric, finding soft worn patches where it would have rested and rubbed against skin. There were dark, burgundy-brown patches where the fabric was stiff and that cracked and sprinkled his hands with powdery brown stuff when moved and manipulated flat. Blood.

"Oh Merlin..."

He clutched the cloth tight to his chest.

_I'm so so sorry._

Tears threaten to fall, remembering the look on Merlin's face, in his eyes when the noose had been placed around his neck. Sadness, pain and fear are all suddenly replaced by a strong feeling of determination.

_But I'm coming for you, Merlin, we leave tomorrow, first light._

_I'm coming to take you home._

_Like I promised._

_Merlin._

**A/N: Gyaaah! Chapter is so short! Sorry 'bout that...**

**Next chapter probably wont be up 'till Wednesday? I'm very busy at the mo._  
_**

**But then it'll be quick updates as usual from there,  
**

**Sorry for any inconvenience this might cause... tehe. :3  
**

**Thanks for reading, drop me a review to tell me your thoughts on my poor midget chapter! XD**

**Lenle G.  
**


	18. Chapter 18

Eighteen

"This is the worst idea, ever." Merlin just stares at them when they bring out the makeup, hideous purple dress, and what look suspiciously like ladies undergarments.

He's looking so much better than when Arthur last saw him, his skin has regained its healthy glow, and the bruising at his neck is hidden under one of his soft blue neckerchiefs. He can talk now, which Arthur is immensely relieved of, and his voice doesn't hold any of its previous horrible rasp. His walking is slightly stiff, due to the damage his ribs suffered, and most of his bruising has mostly faded, but is still slightly visible against the pale flesh.

Arthur has told his father he's taken Morgana and her maid on a trip to buy clothing from some Merchants near Essetir, and that he will be taking the opportunity to do some hunting while there, so they'd be back after a good long time, 'after all', Morgana had smiled sweetly, 'we women need plenty of time for shopping!' To which Uther had laughed merrily and said something about 'these women and their clothes!', and Arthur couldn't quite work out why this had annoyed him.

So now Merlin was being stuffed into the horrible purple voluminous thing, despite his numerous protests, and Morgana was smearing makeup onto his pasty face. Gwen pulls out a large hairy lump from who-knows where, and it's only when she pulls it over his head Arthur realises it's a light brown wig that's completely different to Merlin's own dark hair colour. Gwen then pulls out a hairbrush and attempts to brush it out into sleek light waves and curls, but is currently only achieving odd spikes and fluffy flicks.

"Ow! Gwen! You're pulling my hair too! Ow!" Merlin whines and Arthur can't resist chuckling because this is the Merlin he's been missing.

"Morgana's hair's never this much trouble!" She complains, ignoring the fact the wig looked like someone had dragged it through mud once, and that there were at least two twigs sticking up out of it.

"Done!" Morgana declares after pulling tight the bodice ('Morgana! I can't breathe!').

"Done!" Gwen cries as she flicks her wrist into finishing one last brush of a clumpy, pale curl.

Merlin looks up at them with big blue eyes that peep out from under his sweeping dark eyelashes, that Arthur has never realised were that long before.

They stare at him.

And stare.

And stare.

"Merlin..." Arthur chokes "You look..."

**A/N: Wasn't this fic just going to be me beating up Merlin? When did it turn into a crossdressing fic? Ah well, I suppose I'll have to just beat him up more later! XD**

**But the question is... will Merlin look good as a girl? Or not? You'll just have to wait and see. :P  
**

**Anyway, this is chapter 18, published on the 18th of July, which is my 18th birthday coincidentally (Happy birthday too meee, happy birthday too mee! Happy birthday dear Lennleeee, happy birthday too meee!) *Does crazy happy birthday dance*! :D  
**

**I got a unicycle... because I am that epic. :D  
**

**Thanks for reading, drop me a review (Go on, it's my birthday! please?) :3  
**

**Lenle G.**


	19. Chapter 19

Nineteen

"...Completely ridiculous!" and Arthur breaks down into fits of laughter at the boy (because he's obviously not a girl!) before him.

The dress clumps and clings to his skinny figure in all the wrong places, looking all hideous and purple and thick and downright ugly. The bodice grips him too tightly at the waist, and hangs gapingly open towards the top. The sleeves are huge and too long and poofy, and purple, oh gods the purple!

The skirt of the dress hangs awkwardly above his ankles revealing thick black stockings that wrinkle like aged skin over his feet which were stuffed into a pair of ridiculous too-small high heels. The dress is adorned by tatty ribbons of shiny purple silk and wreathed rolls of thick purple fabric that stand out as chunky blobs and lumps against his skin and silly frilly bits of ugly lace around the neckline, bodice and cuffs. Morgana has replaced his neckerchief with some kind of thick repulsive gold necklace thing, inlaid with a dreadful array of ugly pearls and gemstones, which only minimally covers the dark bruising. The wig, as it turns out, is a quite nice shade of soft, sun-faded brown, but the long curls are matted, clumping solidly together like thick felt on one side and hanging limply on the other. The dam thing's on completely wonky, leaving bits of his own hair sticking darkly out in little flicks between clumps, and his long dark fringe poking out absurdly under the fake hair, and hanging in his eyes.

"M...M... Merlin! Pahahahahahha!" Arthur snorts, slapping his knees and desperately trying to wipe away tears of laughter. He tries to gather himself together, biting his lip, and stamping his feet, but then he looks back up at Merlin in that gruesome dress, and bursts back out in gales of uncontrollable laughter.

Merlin's face was bright red, the embarrassed blush snaking its way across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, making the hideous thick makeup smeared all over it stand out horribly. His lips had been painted a crude rouge red, all bright and leery and unsightly and downright awful, and the blusher on his cheeks created pale spots against his blush. A dark purple something was smeared all over his eyelids, and his lashes were stuck together in little clumps with something thick and dark and tarry.

"Ahahahahhaa...!"

"Arthur! Shut! Up!" Merlin glares up at him under his too-long dark fringe with those big blue eyes of his, fists clenched in the skirt of the horrendous purple monstrosity.

"...hahahahahaha!"

The blush grew across his whole face staining it crimson.

"Arthur!" He cries, tugging at bits of the thing the girls had called a dress. "Morgana!" He spins on the awful heels, tottering dangerously to face her, and scowls as she bursts out laughing.

"Oh Merlin! I... I... Ahahahahaha!"

"Moorgaaananaaaa!" He whines, scowling, as her laughter matches Arthur's in volume, wiping tears from her eyes.

"S...Sorryyy... M... M... Merlin... but... it's... it's just... Ahahahahaha!" Her words were punctuated by laughs, and she covered her mouth with both hands in a vain attempt to stop the giggles, immaculate dark hair flipping around her face.

"Gwen?" Merlin spins round to her instead, face pleading. "Gwen?" He begs.

She looks him up and down critically, face straight. Then her lips curve in a little smile. Then crack in a grin. Then a little giggle escapes. Then another. Then another. And then she's howling uncontrollably with laughter along with the other two.

"S... Sorry Merlin!"

"Everyone!" Merlin shouts, the long ends of the wig flying about. "Everyone! Please!"

"Ahahahahahahahaha!"

"Guy's! Come on!"

"Ahahahahahahahaha! Merlin! Ahahahaha!"

"Stop laughing!"

"Hahaahhahahaaahahahahahahaaaa!"

"But! This isn't going to work!" He shouts, tears forming in those big blue eyes. "I can't go home like this!"

That shuts them up in an instant.

Because Merlin does look ridiculous. So this stupid plan isn't going to work at all.

**A/N: So he looks awful, fwahahahahaha. I happen to think, however, that had they dressed him up a little less ridiculously, he would have passed for a girl ;)**

**Anyway, been considering doing some art for this chapter...**

**Anyone want to see a piccy of Merlin looking all adorable and embarrassed in that dress? :P**

**Thanks for reading! Drop me a review to tell me what you think!**

**Lenle G.**


	20. Chapter 20

Twenty

They stare at him for a long, empty moment.

Then Arthur swears explosively, running his hands through his hair, and over his mouth.

"Oh gods Merlin... Sorry..." He rubs tiredly at his eyes. "Sorry... I..."

"This isn't a plan to get me home at all is it! You just wanted to have a laugh at me! Like usual!" Merlin cries, already pulling the stupid purple thing off himself. One of the seams tears and he tugs at it angrily for a moment, before scrubbing a hand over his eyes, smearing around the hideous makeup.

"No, Merlin! Never! ... I just thought..."

"You thought wrong!" he cries "I can't go home like this!" He pulls at the stupid purple fabric now clinging irritatingly to his hips with its ugly bow's, his exposed chest is still wrapped tightly in bandages, purpled bruising showing at the edges. His angry blue teary eyes glare up at Arthur, as Merlin bends down to wrench off the absurd heels. Then scrubs his hand across his face again, further smearing the hideous makeup.

"Merlin..." Gwen sighs, "come here..." She tenderly takes his wrist and pulls him to the side, dipping a cloth in water she sets to work gently wiping the makeup from his face. His eyebrows are knitted in a pain-filled frown, his eyes brimming with unshed tears as he fights to be strong and not let them fall.

"I'm sorry... Merlin... I thought if we disguised you..."

"I know." Merlin hangs his head, a single tear plipping onto the carpet. "Sorry for shouting."

"We'll have to think of something else." Arthur frowns determinedly, and starts pacing up and down like he's thinking hard of many clever and wise things.

"Don't hurt yourself" Merlin murmurs bitterly, and Arthur chokes on a laugh.

"We still need to disguise you somehow." He looks the skinny warlock up and down a few times before sighing. "Girls? Any ideas?" Morgana just shrugs at him.

"Come on Morgana. Let's get these silly things put away; maybe something more suited to a maid would be better? I'll have a look though my things instead." Gwen tugs Morgana by the wrist and pulls her from the room, struggling to carry the voluminous purple thing.

Merlin slumps down on the bed dejectedly, and Arthur feels in that moment that he would do almost anything to get the boy to smile again. The brown wig has been left on the bed, and Merlin picks at it sadly, pulling out the twigs and smoothing the long brown hairs. The gold necklace thing had been gently lifted from his neck by Gwen, and taken away, revealing, displaying, the horrible bruising.

"I could disguise myself with magic you know." Merlin murmurs quietly, not looking up at him, "I would be simple enough to do, I could..."

"No!" Arthur has leapt on his feet, and he slams his hand down on the table near the bed with a loud _crack _that makes them both jump. "No!"

"Why not!" Merlin springs up angrily. "It would be so much easier to..."

"No!" Arthur grips him by the shoulders, shaking him, and looking him wildly in the eye. "It's far too dangerous!" Arthur considers for a brief moment enfolding the stupid idiotic boy before him in a tight hug. He opts instead for giving him another hard shake of the shoulders, as if he could physically shake some sense into the idiot. "You are NOT using magic in the presence of my father! I forbid it!"

"But...!"

"No Merlin!"

"Arthur, I..."

"No!"

Merlin hangs his head and sighs.

"Promise me." Arthur scowls, shaking him tightly by the shoulders.

"Promise you what?" Merlin looks up at him, hurt and Arthur realises his voice sounds different, rougher somehow. It's been like that all along, he thinks, Arthur wonders why he didn't realise sooner.

"That you won't use magic anywhere near my father!"

"No!" Merlin shakes his head sadly. "I can't promise that. Not at all."

"Of course you can!" Arthur cries, shaking him harder. "Do you have a death-wish you idiot! Do you want to be hung! Promise me!"

"No."

"Merlin! I command you to promise me you won't use magic anywhere near Camelot! You'll get yourself killed! Merlin! You'll die! I can't let that happen! Promise me!"

"No..." Merlin's voice has fallen to a tired, time-weary voice, "I can't."

"Why-ever not!"

"Because if you get into trouble, if some evil sorcerer attacks you, or a magical beast, or... you fall down a flight of stairs..." Here his head jerks up and he looks Arthur straight in the eye "I won't hesitate to use my powers to help you in any way possible."

And Arthur can only stare at him, this small, skinny, silly boy with the most ridiculous ears he's ever seen, whose devotion, friendship, is so huge, so kind, that he can almost physically feel it enveloping him in a thick, warm blanket.

"Merlin..."

"I won't stop protecting you, Arthur. Never. You can't ask me to do that."

"I..." Arthur struggles for words in the face of such powerful loyalty. "Don't use magic to disguise yourself then... at least... I... please, Merlin..." Arthur distantly realises he's begging, but can't bring himself to care "Let us disguise you, keep you safe."

"Dressing me up as a girl's not going to work, Arthur." He rolls his eyes at him, and at that exact moment, when Arthur's hands are still gripping tight to Merlin's shoulders and their faces are only inches apart, the girls walk in, and they spring apart like the other is on fire.

"I agree" Gwen sighs, having heard the very end of their conversation, and she slips over to sit next to Merlin, who is now slouched on the rickety bed again, head in hands. She places a gentle hand on his shoulder, and lightly squeezes in support.

"Oh Merlin..." Morgana smiles sadly, perching on the boy's other side, and taking the discarded, matted brown wig in both hands. She strokes the soft bits of hair near the top, and pulls out a pair of scissors from Gwen's little sewing kit, and snips off a few odd loose strands. Then she freezes, staring between the scissors and the wig, and then up at Merlin.

"What?" Arthur asks following her gaze and not catching on at all.

"Why are we dressing you up as a girl, Merlin?"

"So he can be disguised and we can sneak him back into Camelot so he can be my manservant again! Obviously!"

"But a girl can't be a manservant, Arthur." A smile is forming on her lips, and Arthur can't see what on Earth is funny about anything in this situation.

"Then we were doomed to fail from the start!" He cries, and as there's no more room on Merlin's poky little bed, he pulls out a wooden chair from under the table and slumps in it instead, mirroring his servant's pose with his head in his hands.

Then Morgana starts to laugh.

The others stare at her.

"What?" Gwen frowns.

"Don't you all see?" she chuckles "It's blindingly obvious!"

"What is?" Arthur demands.

"The solution to this mess."

"You have a solution?" Merlin pleads.

"We've been trying to dress you up and sneak you in as a girl," Morgana starts to explain, and smile creeps over Merlin's face as he realises what Morgana is trying to get at, but...

"Yes, we know that!" Arthur rolls his eyes, "And it's _obviously_ not going to work!" Arthur's tone is patronising, the kind of tone that implies everyone else is an idiot. Merlin finds this tone is used on him a lot, and usually when Arthur is the one being the idiot. Merlin grins at this, and Morgana smirks.

"Why a girl, Arthur?" Merlin laughs. "Why not dress me as a boy?"

Morgana smirks wider, and Arthur and Gwen stare at them.

"But... you are a boy..." Arthur points out uselessly, eyebrows knitted.

"Well _done_ Arthur" Morgana gets up and ruffles his hair like a little child, he flicks her off irritated, and she pokes her tongue out at him. Arthur scowls irritated.

"If he walks in as a boy, as he is, as Merlin, everyone will recognise him!"

"Arthur!" Morgana sighs exasperated, because even Gwen's grinning now, "He won't look like Merlin! We'll dress him up as some average, plain-looking, boring-brown-haired, serving-boy!"

"Brown haired?" Arthur frowns confused, staring at Merlin's dark mop. And Morgana shakes the brown wig that quite honestly looks (and rather smells) like some dead thing in his face.

"Just watch." Gwen smiles, her dimples crinkling. "You won't even recognise him."

She pushes Arthur out the door, and grabs her pair of scissors.

"Let's get to work!"

**A/N: Yey! A nice longer chapter! :D**

**Hope you liked it! Drop me a review to tell me what you think! :D**

**Free virtual cookies for if you do?**

**Thanks for reading,**

**Lenle G.**

**P.S. I have cake :D**


	21. Chapter 21

Twenty One

Arthur's sitting by the small river that runs through Ealdor, casually tossing stones into the waters. He sighs; he's feeling bored, having been sitting there for what felt like forever.

The young prince slumps back, closing his eyes and listening to the gentle rush and babble of the water over its rocky bed. He can hear the soft laughter and chatter of children from the village further down the river, as they dip their buckets in to gather the water.

Nearby a small, beaten path runs along the length of the riverside, and the dust of travel has gathered along it in small clouds, settling in a soft golden mist after the feet of a group of villagers trundle past.

Arthur lounges in the shade of a mighty willow that stretched its feathery green branches out low and wide, sweeping over the river, dipping the tips of its fingers into the waters. It dapples the loamy bank with soft, inviting shade, and Arthur looks up at the sunlight that flits between the branches as the wind dances around with the flexible branches, making them softly sway and rustle.

He'd picked a handful of wild berries off a leafy bramble bush that twisted and snaked its branches gently along the grass and up around the mighty trunk of the tree, and his hands and lips were soon stained purple with the juice as he ate them. He wipes his mouth on his sleeve and laughs.

He's so relaxed he doesn't notice the young man until he's right next to him, and Arthur jumps, pulling his sword out of its scabbard with a loud _shhhiiinnnngggg_ before Arthur registers that it's just some man from the town.

"Can I help you?" Arthur's eyes narrow dangerously, and the man laughs nervously, worriedly eyeing his sword. Arthur slides it back into its scabbard, but keeps his hand on the hilt. The man doesn't relax much, he still seems nervous about something.

"That depends." His grin seems vaguely familiar, and Arthur wonders if he's seen this man in town before, scanning his memories he doesn't think so, but there are a lot of brown-haired blue eyed people about. It's very common in fact. Arthur proudly sweeps a hand though his own blond locks feeling just a little bit smug.

The man's soft brown hair is combed neatly into a short cropped ponytail with bits hanging casually loose towards the front, and his eyes at a quick glance are a shade of reasonably unspectacular light blue. He wears the average villager's clothes, with plain brown boots and a plain dyed-green jacket of sorts.

"Depends on what?" Arthur stares at him a moment more, then notices a tight ring of bandages round the man's neck.

He stares harder.

_No... It can't be..._

The man grins.

"Merlin?" Arthur cries, and Merlin, strange-brown haired Merlin, laughs.

"Hi Arthur!" He grins again, and Arthur realises the change in his voice he'd noticed before is much more noticeable now, and those blue eyes seem strangely lighter against the paler hair. Arthur's eyes narrow.

"No 'you know what' was used? Right?" He frowns._ Because if that idiot had used magic after being told, explicitly, not too..._

"Arthur! Shhh!" Merlin glances around wildly for a moment, then laughs "And no, none of that.. just..." here he shudders dramatically "a makeover."

Arthur barks out a short laugh, and looks the young man (because like this, he can't really be called a boy anymore) before him up and down.

"You... you look completely... different..." Arthur feels rather stunned, because you would never know the plain average villager before him was Merlin. The ears, for one, that Merlin could be spotted a mile away by, were hidden under the now immaculately cleaned, cut and combed wig. This Merlin could easily be lost straight away in a crowd, with nothing really to pick him out by. Arthur supposed that was the idea.

"What gave it away though?" Merlin bits his lip worriedly, "Gwen and Morgana said I looked average, 'with no redeemable features' and that I'd blend in. I mean, you knew I'd be in disguise, and Gwen said you might recognise me because you knew... but..."

"No, no... I... The bandages" Arthur swallows, a horrible feeling of guilt seeping into his gut. "The bandages gave you away... Otherwise, I didn't recognise you at all..."

"Oh..." Merlin's hand goes to his throat, and Arthur thinks again how different his voice sounds, he supposes the change must have been caused by the damage that had been dealt to his neck. He hopes over time it'll go back to normal. "I'm not sure what to do about them. I mean..." here he trails off.

"The bruises would show... and you can't exactly wear your neckerchief... that would be too obvious..." Merlin, who Arthur can't believe doesn't look a thing like Merlin, just nods sadly to this. "And we can't just call you Merlin...? And come to that, where on Earth would we have picked up a random serving boy? We can't just take you back without some kind of back story."

"Aaron." Merlin tweaks and tugs on his ponytail. "Morgana said I should be called Aaron, it's a reasonably common name, but memorable enough for you all to remember to call me by it. The girls say that, apparently, I'm a market boy from the travelling fair you supposedly took Morgana to, to get some fabric for dresses. She has some; by the way, as a cover story, she went and bought some red stuff from Old Ma' Martha in the village when she was getting me some new clothes. Anyway, you offered me a job because I was helpful to Morgana when she was picking out her fabric, and saved you some money or something." Arthur stares at him for a moment, Morgana really had this thought out. He smiles.

"Aaron..." Arthur tries it out on his tongue "Aaron and Arthur." He grins. "Aaron, Arthur, Gwen and Morgana!" He grabs Merlin's hands and spins him round and round like little maids at a flower festival. "Aaron and Arthur and Gwen and Morgana!" He chants, laughing, and Merlin can't help but join in, "Aaron and Arthur and Gwen and..." a blur of skirts and dark hair leaps on him from behind, and all three of them crash to the ground in a laughing heap "Morgana!"

Gwen, just coming up the path shakes her head and smiles.

Because the young man struggling to push the crown prince off him ('Gerrof Clotpole! You're so heavy!' 'Are you calling me fat M_er_lin!') didn't look like their Merlin at all,

No-one would ever know that Aaron Syrme (and who knows where Merlin came up with that ridiculous surname) was Merlin.

_No-one would ever know._

_Merlin could come home._

_Home._

_Back to Camelot._

**A/N: Yey! Finally heading back to Camelot! :D**

**I hope you liked this chappie, drop me a review if you did! :D**

**Thanks for reading! **

**Lenle G._  
_**


	22. Chapter 22

Twenty Two

They're halfway up the dirt track; bags packed and ready to leave, when they hear the breathy call of:

"Merlin."

"Mum." Merlin spins on the balls of his feet, and rushes back to her, throwing his long, gangly arms around Hunith and hugging her tight. Merlin's mother runs her hands lightly over the strange light brown ponytail, cupping her boy's head against her shoulder and pressing her nose into the top of his hair, peppering it with light kisses.

"I hate this" she whispers "It's dangerous and stupid, and I'm so scared for you."

"Muummm..." Merlin whines and tries to pull away, but Hunith holds her baby tighter.

"You nearly died." He feels her tears dampening his own, pinned back and cropped, hair through the wig. "I can't stop you going," she sighs "but be careful, ok, Merlin?" She tilts his head up and looks him in the eye; he blushes and buries his face in her shoulder again. "I trust Gaius, and Gwen and Morgana and Arthur to all keep you safe." She tilts his head up once more and presses a soft kiss to his brow. "I hate that you have to hide who you are all the time..." She hugs him close "I'm sorry it's like this..."

"It's ok, Mum" Merlin hugs her back, then she pulls away with a smile, fussing around his collar and hair, and her skirts, as if she doesn't quite know what to do with her hands. She wipes her tears away, laughing nervously.

"Silly old me." She laughs again sadly, then kisses her son on the cheek and reaches to ruffle his dark hair, but has to settle for patting the smooth, neat brown locks. "Here." She wraps a soft brown scarf around his neck with a sad smile. "To hide those horrible bruises" She sighs, and Merlin nods his thanks.

"See you, Mum" He grins.

"See you Merlin."

Her boy turns and runs up the dirt track to join his friends.

"Merlin?" He turns back at her call. "Whatever you look like, you'll always be my little boy." She smiles at his embarrassed blush. "Remember that."

He nods and smiles and waves, cheeks pink.

She raises her hand back.

And then her little boy is gone, disappearing over the hill down towards the river, off on a new adventure of his.

With his friends.

_They'll look after him._

**A/N: Short little chappie, but Awwwwh :3 **

**Don't you just love Hunith? :3**

**Thanks for reading, drop me a review if you liked it! :D**

**Lenle G.**


	23. Chapter 23

Twenty Three

"Mer...Aaron?"

The brown haired boy still looks surprised upon hearing his new name being called, and he looks up from the campfire with wide blue eyes. They'd all agreed to start calling him Aaron, to get both Merlin and them used to it.

Gwen and Morgana manage easily enough, without a single slip up, and the new name, Aaron, just flows easily off their lips. But Arthur's having trouble, he's slipping up and making mistakes and he just can't seem to keep himself from calling the idiot 'Merlin'.

And he knows that if he makes such an error in front of his father, Merlin will be...

Arthur sighs and plonks himself down next to Merlin on the log by the fire. The warm, flickering light is dancing across the boy's cheekbones, strands of his now long hair cast long thin shadows across his face. It creates an ethereal kind of feel. Like something about this boy is otherworldly. Fey almost. The light catches his eyes at such an angle, they appear to glimmer gold.

Arthur's heart catches in his chest.

There's just so much danger in bringing him back. But Merlin has to come home. Arthur suddenly feels like Merlin hasn't had much of a choice in this. What if Merlin didn't really want to go and face the danger? Arthur had always just assumed.

But Merlin had said he wanted to come home.

That 'home' was Camelot for him too.

"You don't have to come back with us, you know." Arthur's terrified. Terrified Merlin will change his mind, terrified he won't. _What if Merlin doesn't want to go back? What if he's scared? What if they're not worth the risk? But then; what if their plan doesn't work? What if his father finds out? What if Merlin gets..._

"I'm coming" Merlin's voice is so soft Arthur barely hears it. "You're not leaving me behind." Arthur's not sure if the thrill he feels at these words is of elation or fear.

"I just had to check." Arthur tries to laugh. "It's dangerous you know..." He rubs a tired hand over his face "my father..."

"Everyone keeps saying that." Merlin interrupts. "Saying how dangerous this is." His voice doesn't rise at all, he doesn't get angry. "I need to stay by your side." He won't meet Arthur's eyes, staring into the flickering flames of their campfire.

The warmth of it had become progressively more and more of a blessing against the cold bite of the darkness around them as the night had slowly fallen and worn on.

"It'll be ok." Arthur feels he's reassuring himself more than the boy next to him, and Merlin just nods, yawning widely, eyelids dipping. It's getting very late. "No-one will know... Aaron" Arthur feels warmth blossom in him when he gets the new identity right.

He can protect Merlin.

The sleepy boy leans unknowing against him, and they stare into the warmth of the campfire.

He will protect Merlin.

**A/N: Awwwh, Hurray for Arthur! Isn't he just the cutest sometimes? :D**

**All the feels :) Hope you liked this chappie, if you did... drop me a review! :D**

**Thanks for reading,**

**Lenle G**


	24. Chapter 24

Twenty Four

Uther watches imperially as his son and ward ride into the castle court yard. Morgana's maid and a brown-haired peasant man ride together with rolls of red cloth, the spoils of Morgana's shopping expedition he supposes.

They climb off and Uther is pleased to see Elric? Eric? Edric? (Was that the man's name? Uther doesn't really care to remember,) there ready to help his son down.

The two servants gather the rolls of cloth between them, and pass them to a pair of young serving maids, presumably to be taken to Morgana's chambers for her handmaiden to fashion into some dress or garment or other. Uther watches as El-whatever-his-name-is goes to help Arthur down, and is loaded a bundle of game animals instead, and given strict barked orders. Uther smirks, he doesn't see any reason why Arthur detests the man so much; he supposes he'll have to find a replacement that pleases the boy better.

The young brown-haired servant bows respectfully before his son, and leads his horse, Morgana's and the servant's away to the stables, patting the big white mare's nose in a fond manner. A new stable-hand perhaps? It doesn't really matter. Morgana's maid curtsies and hurries away to do something, perhaps prepare Morgana's rooms. Uther finds it satisfactory to see servants doing their jobs. Unlike that layabout sorcerer ex-manservant of Arthur's.

Uther grits his teeth and clenches his fist at the mere thought of the sorcerer. Better to put the evil, scheming filth from his mind.

He watches cordially as Arthur takes Morgana's arm, and leads her up the steps towards the main hall. He must meet them there. With a swirl of his blood-red cloak, Uther disappears out the large wooden door, completely disregarding the timid young servant who opened it for him.

He gets there before them, and takes his seat on his throne. The knights arrive next, then Gaius and an array of chattering servants, he spots El-what's-his-name in the crowd, then finally the big double wooden doors swing open, and Arthur marches royally into the room, Morgana on his arm, both servants following at a respectful distance.

"Arthur!" Uther booms across the hall, standing with a wide sweeping gesture of his arms towards his son.

"Father." Arthur looks up at the King and bows his head slightly, while Morgana gently inclines her own and her servant girl performs a low sweeping curtsy. The new male servant's bow is perfectly low and sweeping and cordial. Like a good, proper servant, he'll fit in well here Uther thinks. Perhaps even as a replacement to Arthur's manservant, as his son so dislikes the current one. Uther thinks this is a good idea; it'll save him many a headache, he smirks.

"I trust your journey was safe and prosperous?" The King asks with a smile, and Arthur inclines his head once more.

"Yes, I had some wonderful sport hunting, and Morgana bought some of the fabric she so wanted for Gwen here to make into a dress for her. We travelled to a quaint market near to the border of Essetir to purchase our goods, and this is Aaron Syrme," Arthur sweeps a vague hand behind him towards the new servant, and it's lucky Uther doesn't spot Gaius' stifled gasp as the old man's eyes grow wide and his hand reaches up to his mouth in shock. Gaius stares transfixed at the brown-haired newcomer, mouth gaping, eyebrows puzzled. "He worked one of the market stalls where we bought Morgana's silks. He helped us get a good price, and he proved to be very helpful and courteous, so I have offered him a job as my manservant."

"What!" A voice roars out from among the servants, making everyone jump. "You can't give _him_" a finger points accusingly out of the crowd at the neatly pony-tailed young man "my job!" The voice howls.

"Eldric" _Ah, so that was his name_, "remember your station!" Arthur barks before Uther has the chance to do so. The king smiles, relieved about this.

"But _Sire_!" The man whines, "I worked hard for that job! I exposed you last manservant as an evil sorcerer didn't I?" the room breaks out in hushed whispers "Sire, I surely deserve..."

"You deserve NOTHING!" Arthur roars, and the whole room falls instantly silent.

"Arthur..." Uther warns, and Arthur seems to have an internal battle with himself to shake off his anger, glancing back at the new servant.

"Eldric" Arthur turns back to the man "I am afraid I felt you not the right type of Manservant for me."

"Whyever not!" Eldric screams, face a deep hideous puce. "You bastar..."

"Watch your tongue!" Uther roars, cutting the man off "Who, exactly do you think you are talking to!" How DARE he address the crown prince in such a manner? How dare he! "You are clearly unfit for such a job!"

"But Sire..." Eldric wheedles with a greasy grin "I am the model of a perfect manservant!" here he bows lowly and condescendingly. "I have never once been late, I have always been mindful and respectful of my station, I have..."

"Silence!" Uther roars and Arthur can see his work has been done for him, he grins. "You are fired from your position as Arthur's manservant for misconduct and foul language towards the crown prince. You will leave this room at once!"

"I will be back" Eldric hisses through his teeth "Whatever it takes, I will have the job and pay that is rightfully mine" he wrinkles his nose up in disgust, and shoves past the new serving boy on his way out, pushing him to the floor, hard.

Morgana's maid takes the young man's hand and helps him up again.

"Are you alright?" Uther hears her hushed whisper, and sees his quick, painful nod in reply.

"Ron? Was it?" Uther asks, and the young man before him bows, wincing.

"Aaron, my lord."

Uther nods dismissively to this.

"Very well, this man, Aaron is to be the new manservant to the Crown Prince." Here he turns to the head butler "Find him some servants chambers and see he settles in and everything. Arthur," here he stands and clasps his son's hand. "Morgana," he nods to her "Glad to see you both back safe and well. Meeting adjourned."

**A/N: Yey! Another Chapter!**

**Hope you liked this one, and Uther's Point of View *Grin* **

**Though I had to change Eldric's line from 'I'll be back' to 'I will be back', because I just kept cracking up. XD**

**Thanks for reading! Drop me a review! Please?**

**Lenle G.**


	25. Chapter 25

Twenty Five

As soon as they leave the hall, Merlin walking stiffly a perfect two paces behind all the way to Arthur's rooms, Arthur pulls Merlin aside and looks him up and down with a frown.

"Are you alright?" His eyebrows are creased with worry, his hands tight on Merlin's disguised shoulders.

"I'm fine, Arthur" He grins lopsidedly, "He just pushed me a little bit hard." Arthur snorts at this.

"Show me your ribs." He commands, and Merlin sighs, dragging the plain shirt, brown scarf and green jacket off over his head with a wince, trying not to dislodge the wig.

"There just a little sore..." Merlin attempts to pacify, and Arthur sighs. The bandages have been pulled undone, and are hanging loosely around the boy's stomach, revealing the awful purple bruising. Arthur notices how Merlin's holding himself stiffly. They must really hurt from where he'd just fallen on his side. From where he'd been pushed.

"Stupid Eldric..." Arthur mutters, running his fingers lightly over the bruising, taking note of how Merlin's face scrunches up in pain, then pulls up the bandages to tightly re-do them.

There's a knock at the door and they both freeze, Arthur's hands splayed out over Merlin's half-bandaged chest.

"Who is it?" Arthur calls, trying to keep his nervousness from his voice. _What if it was his father?_

"It's Gaius, Sire..." the old man's voice rings out. Merlin visibly relaxes and nods to Arthur. _Let him in, he should know who I am. He probably already does._

Arthur nods back, and returns to tightly winding the bandages around the skinny torso. He really should eat more; the idiot's ribs stick out like someone's lodged a birdcage in his chest. Arthur bites his lip, he'll have to fix that, can't have the Prince's manservant running around looking like a good gust of wind would knock him over. Arthur briefly wonder's if he's always been this skinny, or if his injuries have contributed to his weightlessness.

"Come in, Gaius" he calls distractedly, and the old man does, softly closing the huge wooden door behind him.

He stands and stares at the two. There a silence in which only the rustling of bandages could be heard.

"You idiot." Gaius hisses, glaring at Merlin, and they both jump. "What on Earth were you thinking!"

Merlin blushes sheepishly and rubs a hand over the back of his head, avoiding the old man's eyes.

"Sorry, Gaius." He whispers, staring at the floor while Arthur tucks in the last of his bandages.

Gaius shakes his head and rubs wearily at his temples before crossing the room murmuring something that sounds suspiciously like: You'll be the death of me", and enfolding the boy in his arms.

"You idiot" he whispers into the strange brown hair.

"I know." Merlin mumbles softly against his shoulder. Gaius pulls back and holds the boy at arm's length, looking him critically up and down.

"It's good to see you, Merlin." Gaius smiles. "I'm glad you're looking much better. You feel well enough to be working?"

"Yeah." Merlin nods. "All healed up." He bangs his fist against his chest as if to prove this, but only ends up wincing. Gaius' eyebrows rise disbelievingly at this, then he sighs.

"Foolish boy."

"I know." Merlin smiles. "Good to see you too."

"A disguise then? Arthur?" the old man turns to the crown prince, who nods.

"How did you know it was him? How did you see through his disguise?" Arthur bites his lip worriedly._ If he'd recognised him... then..._

"I didn't. It was that stupid name. You chose it just to let me know, didn't you?" Gaius turns back to Merlin, with a roll of his eyes.

"What Aaron?" Arthur frowns puzzled, he doesn't see how Gaius could work out it was Merlin from the name Gaius.

"No, Syrme. The foolish boy spelt out 'Emrys' backwards."

"Emrys?" Arthur frowns puzzled. "What in the name of the old religion is an Emrys?"

"Emrys is what the druids call me." Merlin mumbles, looking down at his worn black boots.

"This idiot just switched it around."

"Why?" Arthur asks puzzled.

"Because I wanted Gaius to recognise me..." Merlin mumbles, still staring unabashedly at his feet.

"No," Arthur laughs "Why do these druids call you 'Emrys'?"

"The druids predicted Merlin's arrival here in Camelot as the one known to them as Emrys." Here Gaius he frowns. "The name 'Emrys' is said to mean 'immortal'. It is a name given to show great power." Arthur stares at him blankly.

"Immortal? You're immortal!"

"No!" Merlin laughs "Certainly not!"

"It's merely a reflection of his powers..."

"Powers... you mean..." here Arthur looks around wildly, and whispers "Magic?"

Merlin nods.

"The druids say that Emrys and The Once and Future King shall unite all Albion together. They say together, they shall bring back magic to the land."

"Who is this King?" Arthur frowns.

"You, my lord. You and Merlin."

Arthur laughs just at this.

"Ridiculous! Now, Merlin..." Arthur begins to ramble about how that now he's back; Merlin has socks to wash, and dinner to bring him.

"One day." Merlin grins and whispers to Gaius.

"One day." Gaius whispers back.

_One Day._

**A/N: So, how many of you got that Syrme was Emrys backwards? I know at least one reviewer did, clever old them!**

**Yey! Merlin's back in Camelot and Gaius knows who he is! Whoop!**

**Next up: Evil old Eldric makes a sneaky return.**

**The git.**

**Thanks for reading drop me a review if you liked it! **

**Lenle G._  
_**


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty Six

The stable-master, taking pity on Eldric, who'd come begging grovelling to him (when surrounded by people so he couldn't possibly say no to the poor sap), had given him a job in the stables.

Feeding, grooming, mucking out, the horses.

Arthur had laughed and said it served him right.

Merlin had told him not to be so mean.

But then there came the incidents.

It started small at first. A little push past here, or an elbow to a tray there. Sometimes just enough to tip Merlin off balance, to make him drop what he was carrying, to cause a little bruise. But he'd always apologise after. With that mean little smile on his face, and his nose turned up in the air, and the feeling that he was always laughing at Merlin.

It was only when Eldric stuck his foot out when Merlin was carrying that bucket of water (and he'd walked around soaked and freezing until Arthur had noticed him dripping and shivering in his doorway almost four hours later, and shouted at him to go and put something dry and warm on) that Merlin began to realise Eldric was doing it on purpose.

Because the newest stable-hand had stood there, and laughed, openly, at him, in front of everyone.

Gwen vowed to take her best frying pan to the back of his head.

Merlin laughed it off, and told her not to be so silly.

Gwen told him to tell Arthur if it ever happened again.

Merlin smiled disarmingly at her, and said it was probably mostly just him being clumsy, and that it didn't matter.

She insisted he tell Arthur.

Merlin sighed and promised that he would.

But he didn't.

Arthur doesn't notice anything until he starts showing up with bruises.

Then a long cut above his eye.

Then a profound limp.

When he asks what's wrong, Merlin says 'nothing'.

"It's nothing, Arthur. I'm fine."

Fine.

Even though he quite clearly wasn't.

**A/N: So Eldric's all bitter because he's lost his job, and he's taking it out on our poor little Merlin!**

**Right! Rise up readers! Bring as many point sticks, torches, and pitch forks as you can find! We have some slimy git's but to kick! Fwahahahahahaa!**

***Ahem***

**Yes, well, hope you like this chapter, drop me a review if you did,**

**Lenle G.**


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty Seven

Merlin didn't think it was too bad.

_Not really._

He'd had worse.

_But it still hurts._ He winces as he presses a cloth soaked in a lotion he's made recently to stave off infection and to clean wounds, against a series of fresh, open cuts along his forearm. The little bit of Gaius' medical training he's taken in is proving very helpful.

Eldric had shoved into him, forcefully, jabbing him in the ribs and knocking one of his arms out from under the tray he was carrying up from the kitchen. The tray had fallen with him, landing hard, and shattering the glass decanter full of expensive wine he'd been carrying to Arthur's rooms all over the floor. Glass had flown everywhere, becoming embedded in his forearm as he shielded his face.

Luckily none of the big bits had caught him anywhere else, but there had been a healthy chunk of glass sticking out under his elbow, and slivers all down his arm towards his wrist.

His blood had dripped slowly down the glass, and welled up when he pulled out the shards with a pair of tweezers. He was now applying the antiseptic lotion he'd made, having come to expect these kinds of injuries, and bandaging the wounds.

He tucks the end of the clean, white bandage into the end of where he's wrapped it and sighs. His tunic is covered with deep red and the crisp white of the bandage pokes out under his jacket sleeve. Merlin tries to rumple it up so it's not seen, and only succeeds in loosening it too much, so that he has to wrap it all over again. And even then it still can be seen from under his sleeve.

Arthur's going to notice this one for sure.

_I tripped._ Merlin thinks. _He knows I'm clumsy, so he'll believe me._

But when Arthur notices and grips his wrist tightly and shouts in his face, demanding to know what's going on, how he got hurt, Merlin tells him his lie, and Arthur just won't believe him.

"I just tripped!"

"Just tripping doesn't make you _bleed_! Merlin!" He waves Merlin's arm in the air, and the boy's horrified to notice red seeping through his precise bandages. Arthur's grip is so tight it hurts. Merlin tries not to wince. _Why is he so angry?_

"Does Gaius know about this?" Arthur demands. "Or have you been treating yourself? Merlin!" Arthur shakes his shoulder, jerking him around like a puppet on a string. "Merlin! Answer me!"

But Merlin doesn't reply, he wrenches his arm from Arthur's grip with a pain filled cry, and runs from the room like he's being chased by some kind of pack of murderous hunting hounds.

Someone's been hurting Merlin.

_His Merlin._

And Arthur's doesn't know who.

He clenches his fists frustrated.

When he finds out, and he _will_ find out, they _will_ pay.

Because no-one hurts Merlin.

No-one.

Arthur clenches his teeth and goes after him.

_That idiot._

_Why won't he just tell me?_

**A/N: Nooo! Poor Merlin!**

**Still got those pitch forks, flaming torches and pointy sticks o' dear readers? Well... you'll need them.**

***Insert lots of manic evil laughter here***

**...**

**Anyway, yes, hope you liked this chapter too! :D**

**Poor, Poor Merlin...**

***Evil grin***

**Thanks for reading! Go drop me a review below if you liked it!**

**Lenle G.**


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty Eight.

Merlin's running, and he won't cry, he won't, and his arm hurts, and his ribs are sore, and everything's painful from all the incidents, and he's tired and he just wants to sleep, and he is starting to really hate Eldric, and Arthur's angry, and Gwen's upset, and Gaius will be furious, and his mothers so far away, and he desperately wants a hug, and his bandages are coming undone round his torso, and he nearly knocks into a serving girl, and someone's shouting at him, and he call smell horse manure, and... and... and...

And he doesn't notice the stairs until he feels someone shove him in the back, hard.

And he crashes down them.

And he knows only pain.

And darkness.

**A/N: but... but... it's so short! Noooo!**

**Sorry 'bout that peeps, but I have updated lots today, yey! :)**

**I'm going off camping WITH NO INTERNET! I may just die. Literally. From lack of the internetz. But, although I wont be posting for a bit, I'll write while I'm there, to bring you lots of updates when I get back!  
**

**I think this note is nearly longer than the chapter... oopsies...  
**

**Thanks for reading and (even though it is a terrible midget chapter) drop me a review to make me smile!**

**See you when I get back!  
**

**Lenle G.**


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty Nine.

Arthur sees him fall.

Sees Eldric push him.

Hears the horrible crunch as Merlin hits the ground.

The ground.

At the bottom of a flight of stairs.

Merlin's name is choked silently off his lips; his feet are running for him, down the flight of stairs. He can't breathe for fear. Merlin's so small and limp below him.

Eldric pushed him.

Pushed him.

"Sire, I... it was an accident!" Eldric's behind him, hurrying down the stairs, as Arthur crashes to his knees beside the crumpled form of his friend on the floor.

"A...Aaron!" He shakes the boy's shoulder, the cover name only just filtering through his haze of panic. "Aaron! Wake up!"

But the boy's eyes are closed, his face as chalk white as his bandages. Dark red blood seeping from somewhere. Oh gods... he was bleeding...

Arthur's heart feels like it stops. He forgets how to breathe.

"S...Someone get Gaius! Quickly!" Arthur cries out then bends down and whispers urgently in the boy's ear "Merlin! Wake up! Come on... Merlin! I can't lose you again!"

He rolls the boy carefully onto his back, running his hands over the gangly limbs looking for broken bones. Nothing appears to have fractured, _thank the gods_, but he can't really tell. One arm is at a bit of a funny angle, probably sprained, because he can't feel any breaks as he runs his hands over's it, and straightens the limb out.

"Merlin!" He hisses again in his ear, and gives the shoulders a careful shake. "Wake up, idiot!" Merlin doesn't respond.

He looks up at the footsteps; a young scullery maid is leading Gaius by the hand.

The old man's face goes from its usual pale pink, to ashen grey, to stark white in a moment.

"Mer... cy!" Gaius cries, covering his slip-up with an exclamative as he drops to his knees beside his boy, feeling his pulse and checking his breathing and ascertaining the source of blood.

"Unnnnggg..." Merlin moans and Arthur's heart restarts again.

"Aaron?" He asks, not daring to use Merlin's real name in front of the small crowd forming.

Merlin's eyes flicker open into blue hazy slits, and he blinks lots in what appears to be slow-motion against the light. Arthur brings his hand round to shade his eyes from the brightness and the boy's eyes open a bit wider, trying to take in his surroundings.

"Art'hur?" He slurs, blinking lethargically and bringing a hand up towards his head with a wince.

"Aaron," Gaius opts for using the cover-name too "You've had a nasty fall and pulled open these bandaged cuts of yours." So that's where the blood was coming from. Thank goodness the idiot hadn't cracked his head open. Gaius runs his hands over the wig, feeling for cuts and bumps. He frowns; it's obvious he's not going to ascertain much through the thick brown hair.

Merlin groans again, his eyes hazy.

"Right" Gaius is in full physician mode "Aaron, do you think you can sit up?"

Merlin vaguely nods, and Arthur helps him pull himself into a sitting position. He blinks slowly, eyes trying to focus.

Then Merlin freezes.

Arthur looks at him puzzled.

The boy's staring directly ahead of himself, at... Eldric. Eldric who's standing there with that disgusted sneer on his face. Eldric who's almost laughing.

Eldric's grin widens at Merlin, and he sneers down at the boy.

Merlin flinches visibly.

"Eldric!" Arthur snaps, teeth grinding together. "Go back to work!"_ I'll deal with you later - _was Arthur's unspoken promise. "Aaron?" he takes the boy by the shoulders and Merlin slowly turns his head with a wince to look at him.

"What hurts?" Gaius asks softly and Merlin blinks at him.

"Ever'thing." he runs a shaking hand over his face, his neck; where the bruising is still concealed by his scarf. Another bruise is blossoming on his chin; Arthur thinks he caught it on the stair rail as he fell.

"Right, we'll take you to my chambers... Arthur?"

"I'll help."

Together they gathered the boy up off the floor, and supported his wobbling frame all the way to his old chambers, where they settled Merlin in his old bed.

"My head 'urts..." Merlin gives a whimper of pain.

"It will." Gaius sighs. "It will."

Arthur curses Eldric to the deepest darkest gates of hell.

It doesn't really make him feel better.

**A/N: Nooo! Poor Merlin! *Bashes Eldric up with large pointy stick***

**Anyone else fancy joining in the Eldric-bashing? XD**

**So yes! I'm back from holiday! Yey! :D :D :D  
**

**Sorry about leaving you on such a evil cliffie! Tehehehe. :)**

**Drop me a review to tell me what you think!**

**Lenle G.**


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

Merlin was sleeping.

Peacefully at first, then he had begun to toss and turn.

They'd taken the wig off, and Gaius ascertained he had a bit of a bump, but no major damage, thank goodness. His dark hair was a familiar comfort to Arthur as he sat by his side. They'd re-bandaged his injuries on his chest that had been pulled open in the fall, and the healing bruising to his torso had been exaggerated so that they were now a dark purple again.

Then Merlin groans, scrunching up his eyes and balling his fists.

Then he begins to squirm and fret under the covers, limbs flailing around as he tosses and turns restlessly. He whimpers small painful sounds as he claws at his throat. Arthur thinks he's having a nightmare of some sort perhaps. He's managed to twist around so much that he's wound his woollen brown scarf tighter and tighter round his neck like...

Merlin gives a choked, pain filled sob.

... a hangman's noose.

"Merlin!" Arthur shakes his shoulder "Merlin wake up!" he receives a fist to his nose and an anguished cry for his troubles. "Merlin!"

Arthur takes the boy by both shoulders and shakes him, and Gaius has come running, and is asking what on Earth is going on loudly in his ear and Arthur can only shout "Nightmare!" before Merlin's elbow thwacks him in the chin.

"Merlin!"

"It's his scarf" Gaius whispers, horrified "He thinks it's the noose..." And Arthur nods and shouts Merlin's name again, trying to pry his clawing hands away from his neck before the idiot hurts himself.

Then Merlin jolts upright with a cry, wide eyed and panting and terrified. His dark hair slicked down with sweat, shaking like a frightened rabbit.

"Merlin!" Arthur gathers the boy into his arms, like his nurse had done when he was little and had had nightmares. As the Crown prince pulls the scarf away from the damaged neck, Merlin starts to sob. The dark, terrible bruising is now visible and Arthur's fists clench automatically. Gaius slips out and closes the door with a small click. Arthur's got him. It'll be alright.

"Merlin." The boy's sobbing into his chest, and without even thinking about it, Arthur cradles him in his arms. "Shhhhh. Shhh Merlin... It was just a nightmare..."

"A...Ar...Arthur...?" Merlin chokes out between painful sobs, as if just realising who's holding him.

Arthur ruffles the black locks (oh how he's missed that!) and smiles.

"Sorry" Merlin sniffles trying to wipe his eyes on the back of his green jacket sleeve. His whole body is relaxed back in Arthur's arms, and he leans into Arthur's hand in his hair with a sigh. "Thanks..." he mumbles.

"What are friends for?" Arthur grins, he can't seem to keep his hand out of Merlin's hair. He prods a ridiculous ear – he's missed them too.

"Mmmmm..." Merlin mumbles and Arthur takes one trembling hand in his own.

"What did you dream about?"

Merlin face is pale as porcelain, mottled with an unhealthy ashen grey. He visibly shudders in Arthur's arms, whole body tensing again.

"Nothing important..." Merlin tries, but is reprimanded with a glare and a stern _Merlin_ and Merlin sighs, giving in. "The hanging..." He whispers "I dreamed that the rope was... was... tight round... my neck. And It was... was... Eldric... he... he was there and he... he..." Merlin's breath hitches with a sob, and he just seems to run out of words, trailing off.

"What did he do!" Arthur hisses angrily, and Merlin flinches, burying his head against Arthur's chest with a whimper. "Merlin?" Arthur forces his voice to be gentler again; with the realisation that, funnily enough, shouting's really not helping.

"He... he... you know... kicked the block out. And... And... it h..hurt... s... so much... Arthur... I... Arthur... I... I couldn't b...b...breathe... I... I kept t...trying t...to call for you... b...but..." and he breaks down in tears all over again. Great heaving, painful sobs. "I'm s...s...sorry..."

"It's ok." Arthur tries to sooth him, speaking with what he hopes is a soothing voice. _Gwen would be so much better at this, where was she when you needed her? _Arthur felt hopeless, like he wasn't helping the small, shaking boy at all.

So Arthur just sits there, gently rocking him, and slowly the boy's sobs turn to snuffles then to sighs then to soft, even breaths. The trembling stops and Arthur thinks he's fallen asleep until a quiet voice asks;

"What happened? Arthur?"

"You were pushed down the stairs." Arthur tells him with a sigh. _Really where was Gwen?_ Arthur was rubbish at this sort of thing.

"I was...?" Merlin mumbles.

"Do you not remember?"

Merlin tries to shake his head and winces.

"Just... pain..."

"The flight down towards the servants quarters... I... you were running... after..."

"We argued... I'm sorry..." Merlin mumbles.

"Yes... I... me too." Arthur adds "I chased after you, just in time to see..."

"Eldric." Merlin's eyes widen, and the tremors that wracked his small frame re-started. "It was Eldric wasn't it..."

"I... yes... he... pushed you... I... I think it was on purpose... Merlin... all these other injuries you've had... they..."Arthur unconsciously clutches the small boy tighter "he caused them... didn't he?"

Merlin freezes for a long, empty moment, and Arthur's just about to prompt him again, when he nods once and it's all Arthur needs to know to make his blood boil.

_How dare he!_

"How long Merlin! How long's this been going on!" Merlin flinches away from him, and Arthur realises all over again shouting at Merlin isn't the best idea... "Merlin..." Arthur let's his voice become softer "How long's he been hurting you? And..." because this was the linchpin in it all, the thing that struck Arthur to the core, that made him feel like he was being torn inside out "... Why didn't you tell me?"

**A/N: Dun dun duuunnn!**

**Nnnngggg. Bed now. Lenle is sleepy! XD**

**Though I feel rather proud of this chapter... not sure why... I just really liked writing it... (Maybe it's because I got to use far too many ellipse's. XD) Anyway... Hope you liked reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!  
**

**Thanks for reading! How about giving me a nice review to read when I wake up?**

**Lenle G.**


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty One

"I'm sorry." Merlin whispers. "I... I didn't think..."

"Well that's clear!" Arthur snaps, then immediately regrets it. "Sorry... carry on..." He sighs.

"I didn't think it was all that bad... I mean..." Merlin feels so small in his arms, so fragile._ How could anyone ever want to hurt him?_ "I... I don't even know why... why he would..."

"Why he would do this?" Arthur asks, and Merlin nods. "He's jealous. Jealously makes people cruel, Merlin, cruel and vindictive."

"Jealous?" Merlin looks up at him, all big blue eyes and worried eyebrows. "Why would anyone be jealous of me?"

"You're the Prince's manservant, Merlin. It's a well-paid job, with good living apartments, and... I don't know... it's an honour to serve a prince." Merlin snorts at that, and Arthur glares at him. "Eldric just wants the role for himself." Arthur sighs, his hand threading its way through Merlin's hair. The boy makes a sleepy little noise, like a cat might, and pushes his head against Arthur's palm. The Prince smiles, then sighs again, smile slipping off his face. "Despite my best efforts, I seem to have put you in danger anyway. However hard I try not to... I... I am... Sorry, Merlin." The sincere apology is weird and foreign and more than a little bit awkward rolling off Arthur's tongue, but it somehow feels right to him.

"It's ok." Merlin's voice is small "I'm just a servant Arthur, I have no right to complain or anything..."

"Merlin! I... You... I... you are more than 'just a servant'! Merlin... I... I value you... as... as a friend. You know that, right...?" Arthur's own determination in this fact surprises even himself, because that's what Merlin was; his friend.

"Thank you." Merlin face shifts into a small delicate smile. "You're my friend too." Arthur dips his head in acknowledgement, then tightens his arms around the skinny frame with another sigh.

"Then you should have come to me, Merlin. When Eldric started hurting you. You should have come to me... I... why didn't you?"

Merlin squirms uncomfortably in his arms, small tremors wracking his frame as he starts to speak, voice not much more than a pained whisper;

"I didn't realise it was so bad a first... it was just little things, accidents... by the time I began suspecting he was doing it on purpose, by the time they got worse... I... he... I was too scared... I thought you might think I was weak or... just being an idiot... or something... I don't know..." Merlin trails off, fighting not to let more tears fall, and Arthur holds back the _sorry _dangling on the tip of his tongue. Merlin's palm reaches up to rubs against his forehead, and Arthur realises the boy must have one hell of a headache. He feels twice as guilty for shouting. "Gwen saw once..." Merlin whispers "She said to tell you, if it ever happened again... but I didn't... I'm sorry... that I didn't... I..." Merlin seems to run out of words and his fingertips trail over the bruising at his neck. Then he yawns sleepily, hands reaching up to scrub at his eyes with one hand in a comically feline motion.

"Merlin, if he so much as comes near you again, I want to know. Ok?" Arthur clenches his fists; _who knows what that foul git could be capable of in a fit of jealously? _Arthur wonders briefly if he could have handled Eldric differently. If Merlin wouldn't be injured if he had. Arthur's nails bite into his palms. When he looks down at Merlin again, pressed against his chest and encircled by his arms, Arthur realises he's asleep.

_He won't hurt you again, Merlin._

_He won't._

**A/N: Yey Chapter 31! ... when did it get this long! XD  
**

**Ah well, I'm having fun writing it! XD**_**  
**_

**Drop me a review to tell me what you think? Kay? It'd be really great if you do.  
**

**Lenle G.  
**


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty Two

Merlin is asleep when Morgana visits. The seat next to his bed was still warm from where Arthur had been sitting, and when Morgana takes it, she sighs.

Merlin's face is pale, spotted with purpled bruising on his chin and his neck, and he trembles slightly, barely noticeably, in his sleep. Morgana sighs again, and runs her hand lightly through the dark hair, that she's rather missed. He leans into her touch in his sleep, like a furry little cat seeking the warmth of her palm, and she smiles sadly.

She hears three knocks, their 'safe' signal, and the door sweeps open behind her, its then pushed quietly shut with a little click of the latch.

"How is he?" Gwen asks, and Morgana turns to see her nervously smoothing down her pale blue frock and setting down a pail of water she'd been carrying.

Gwen remembers how her heart leapt into her throat when one of the scullery boys, Mayhew, had told her the Prince's manservant had taken a tumble down a flight of stairs. She remembers the intense feeling of fear as she asked if he knew if the young man was alright, and how her hands shook when Mayhew told her how Gaius and the Prince himself had carried him to the physician's rooms.

"... There was a lot o' blood" Mayhew had said thoughtfully and Gwen had all but run down to Gaius' chambers, opening the door with a crash and glared around the empty room.

"Gaius?" She'd called, and received no reply. She'd walked to the door of what used to be Merlin's small room, knocking before pushing it open, and gasped at the sight of Gaius re-bandaging the unconscious Merlin's wounds.

The old, discarded bandages were bloody, and his injures were scabbed over with dark red clotted blood. A long, red stripe had been cracked open, blood flowing freely from the wound as Gaius cleaned it with a red-stained cloth.

They'd taken off Merlin's brown wig, and his dark head rested limply to one side on the thread-bare pillow. Arthur paced worriedly up and down by the bed, running his hands through his hair, face pale and sweaty. His head had jerked up when he heard Gwen enter, body tense as a coil, and his whole frame sagged with relief when he saw it was only Gwen, not some guard, or his father, or anyone who could recognise Merlin and...

She'd gone to tell Morgana then, and by the time the two of them had rushed down, Merlin was sleeping in his bed, quiet and peaceful; Arthur slumped over by his side in the chair.

Gwen sighs at the memories; then pulls up another chair, settling in it next to Morgana, and together they keep vigil by his side until Arthur returns, when they all sit together, near the foolish boy, with the knowledge that he'll be alright.

**A/N: Yey! Merlin's gonna be ok! ... But Eldric's still hanging about being evil... Fwahahahhaha...**

**Thanks for reading! If you can, drop me a review? K? They really boost my confidence! :)  
**

**Thanks again,**

**Lenle G.  
**

Right


	33. Chapter 33

Thirty Three

One of the knights, Sir Marsham, has taken Eldric on as a Squire. Arthur has to grit his teeth and bear it, because, Crown Prince or no, he has to prove Eldric pushed Merlin, and it'll look so terribly bad if he just goes accusing people willy nilly without other witnesses or some kind of proof. Hard accurate, convictive proof.

However much he wants to.

Its Merlin's first day back at work, dressed as Aaron, wig in place, bruises hidden. He's still shaky on his feet, and quite pale, but he's determinedly carrying on with work.

"I'm fine" He insists "I can do this". He stands at the edge of the practice field, Arthur's spare heavy hauberk clutched in both hands, his knuckles tightly stretched white.

Eldric shoots dark glares across the field in the manservant's general direction every few minutes, when he thinks Arthur's not looking, and the young prince tries to ignore the fact the boy flinches every time he meets the eyes of Marsham's arrogant new squire.

Arthur has to resist the strong, powerful urge to go over there and punch both Eldric and Marsham right in their smug, stupid faces.

But his father's watching from his high window in the castle.

And punching them wouldn't be productive.

Unfortunately.

Arthur clenches his fists, sword tight in his palm.

"A little lower on that left swing Percival" he calls out, voice deceptively calm, when feeling anything but calm inside. It was like a torrential storm in there, with thunder and lightning, high seas and whirlwinds. But Sir Percival's got his stance all wrong; idiot, he was aiming far too high. Is everyone else here completely incompetent? _Idiots._ Arthur clenches his teeth. Eldric's smirking openly at Merlin now. "No, Percival, _Lower_" Arthur tries to stop the growl seeping into his voice. But dammit, he was annoyed. Merlin flinches horribly, nearly dropping his spare chainmail. Arthur looks back to the fight and rolls his eyes; Percival was swinging that sword about like a club; he'd never get a proper hit in like that. Leon was having it easy! Percival was fighting like a girl! Merlin's knees give out and he slumps back against the fence, eyes anywhere by Eldric. Percival needed to swing lower, honestly. "Percival!" Arthur growls. "Lower!" Eldric was smirking at him now from across the field. "Sir Percival! Honestly!" Arthur snorts, storming over to them.

"But Arthur..." Percival stammers, and then with a shout of 'like this!' Arthur's attacking him, hard, quick, angry blows raining down, and Percival face is shocked, white even. "A...Arthur! S..Stop!" He cries out between blows. "I... Can't... Stop!"

"Fight back!" Arthur crows, and it's like its Eldric there, laughing at him from across the field, laughing at Merlin. Merlin who he hurt. Arthur swings his sword in a great arc with an angry roar, and hears the strangled scream of:

"Arthur stop!" from Merlin.

Then his sword hits something solid. Red sprays his vision. And Percival falls.

**A/N: Virtual cookie for reviewers?**

**Thanks for reading,  
**

**Lenle G.  
**


	34. Chapter 34

Thirty Four

Arthur stares down at the huge man before him, and blinks.

Merlin's running towards him from across the field, face marred with confusion and worry and... fear? He looks back down at Percival. At the blood. And blinks. A sudden sweeping horror grips him, and his knees give out, and he's toppling backwards, and his visions flickering and...

"There was nothing wrong with his swing!" Leon, Percival's sparring partner, grips him by the front of his chainmail shirt and hauls him back upright, holding him close to his face, spittle flying. "What the hell is your problem Arthur?!"

"I..." and Arthur's brain feels foggy, like someone's filled it with cotton wool.

"Arthur!" and Merlin there, by his side, shooting him a glare and dropping to his knees beside Sir Percival, who is just struggling to sit up. "Show me your injury." Merlin's tone makes the huge man stick out his arm, where blood is seeping freely through the deep-looking gash that stripes along his forearm.

Leon stares down at the boy, now examining Percival's injury, with a slight frown on his face.

"Where did you receive medical training?" He asks, brows creased. Merlin freezes at the question, biting his lip. Percival looks up at the boy treating his arm with quick, skilled fingers, and watches him intently, eyeing the boy with suspicion. The other knights are crowding round now, some of the squires hanging on behind them.

"I worked on a travelling market before I came here, injuries are common, and we're all trained in basic first aid" Merlin lies through his teeth, thankfully, the knights seem to buy it.

"You alright Percy?" Sir Gwaine grins, leaning on his sword pommel, and looking down at the angry red gash that Merlin was now bandaging. Arthur supposes the boy must have grabbed the roll of white gauze out of the field medic bag that lived at the edge of the practice grounds.

"I'm good." Pervical claps a hand on Merlin's shoulder "Thanks to this boy here. Arthur's new manservant right? Aaron?" His eyes creased in a frown as Merlin nods to confirm his name.

"The one who replaced Merlin?" Gwaine frowns, teeth clenched.

"Merlin?" Merlin asks, feeling very strange and trying to keep the nervous laughter from his voice. "Who's Merlin?" Gwaine stares at him for a long moment.

"A good friend of mine." Gwaine's eyebrows rumple in confusion as he takes in the boy before him. The amateur physician with a skinny frame and blue eyes and... "Have I met you somewhere before?" He asks suddenly with a frown, and Merlin's heart skips a beat.

"I... no... I don't think so... I... well... I travelled around a lot in my last job; maybe you visited our market once? We sell our wares all over the kingdom, and into a few others."

"Ah, a trader then." Gwaine grins like this explains everything. "You good there Perce?" He flings out a hand and helps Percival up. Merlin climbs to his feet and brushes himself down.

"Arth...Sire?" Merlin asks. The crown prince was sat on the grass, a faraway look in his eyes. Slowly, Arthur pulls himself to his feet, and brushes past Merlin to stare at Percival.

"There was nothing wrong with his swing Arthur." Leon states lowly, a dark frown firmly in place on his face.

"I..." Arthur addresses the huge knight "I made an error... and... I'm sorry." He runs a hand over his face, and for a moment, Percival says nothing.

"Its fine, Sire, just a scratch." He grins and clasps Arthurs arm, all his forgiven.

Merlin stands to one side as Arthur breaks out into a grin, and the knights all start laughing about it together.

"You know, Gwaine was right, you do look familiar,_ Aaron_." Merlin jumps a foot, as Eldric sneaks up behind him and hisses in his ear. The young warlock whirls around to face the sneering squire. "But I've never met any travelling traders. Funny that... must be a coincidence..." And with a dark laugh, Eldric disappears into the crowd of knights and squires around Percival, leaving Merlin with a heavy feeling dark dread in his chest.

**A/N: Ok, so this one was a bit short, but shorter chapters = fast updates... tehehe.. anyway... dun dun dunnnn! Has Eldric worked it out?**

**Drop me a review to tell me what you think!**

**Lenle G.**


	35. Chapter 35

Thirty Five

"Arthur..."

"I don't know what I was thinking, Merlin..."

"Arthur..."

"...I was being so stupid, I just felt..."

"Arthur!"

"...So angry, and my actions harmed Sir Percival! I mean I..."

"Arthur, listen to me!"

"...could have seriously injured him! Put him..."

"Arthur!"

"...out of commission even! What if..."

"Arthur! Please!"

"I'd killed him! I just wasn't..."

"Arthur!"

"Thinking... I..."

"Arthur! Listen!"

"...suppose that..."

"Athur!"

"Oh for heaven's sake, Merlin! What!?" Arthur roars, whirling on his manservant. Then he freezes, taking in Merlin's terrified expression, chalk white face and shaking frame. "Merlin?" Arthur's eyebrows knit and his lips part slightly in a concerned frown.

"Eldric..." Merlin stammers out. "He... I think he's onto me!"

"What?" Arthur can only stare at the boy, in his funny brown wig, and plain serving clothes.

"I think he knows who I am really, or is very close to guessing."

And Arthur can only stare at him, and horror builds in his chest.

Because if Eldric does know, and exposes him, then Merlin's a dead-man.

_Merlin..._

**A/N: Urk... short chapter... still... doooom! Eldric might knowooowww! *cue dramatic drum rolls etc* XD**

**Anyway, thanks for reading! Why not drop me a review? :3**

**Lenle G.**


	36. Chapter 36

Thirty Six

Arthur tries to ferry Merlin out of Camelot. He tells him it's too dangerous to be here if Eldric suspects him. Tells him that Eldric will tell Uther. That he'll be killed.

But Eldric hasn't acted at all. He's keeping his distance. Just walking around with that smug knowing grin. Arthur's tearing his hair out, because, despite the danger, the horrible, terrible, looming danger...

Merlin refuses to leave.

He's scrubbing the floor; the grating noise of the hard bristled brush scraping up and down over the flagstones is starting to get on Arthur's last nerve. He's pacing up and down, worried scowl firmly in place. Scritch scratch scratch. Scritch scratch scratch. Scritch scratch scratch. Scritch scratch... dunk. The brush goes in the bucket, and Merlin swirls it around in the soapy water with a gloop gloop sound. Then... Scritch scratch scratch. Scritch scratch scratch. Scritch scratch...

"Merlin!" Arthur growls, and the serving boy looks up, brush frozen in his hand, and a surprised look on his face.

"Arthur?" he's so innocent, so naive to the danger, just carrying on like nothing wrong and that he couldn't be dragged away in chains at any moment.

"Arrgh!" Arthur cries, throwing his hands in the air, and flopping like a limp rag on the red coverlet of his bed. Scritch scratch scratch. Scritch scratch scratch. Merlin carries on scrubbing with a shrug, until. "Merlin!" comes the cry, "just... go somewhere... ok?"

"Go?" Merlin frowns.

"Just... get out! Ok! Your driving me crazy! Just..."

There's a loud knock at the door, and Gwaine's voice hollers;

"Arthur!" Arthur rolls his eyes, and calls Gwaine in. "Brought you your practice sword back from the field, you left it out there...Oh! and your father's called a audience in the great hall tomorrow morning. He's knighting one of the new knights." Arthur sighs and pulls himself into a sitting position to receive the sword. "Right, I'm done for the day then... to the tavern!" Gwaine cries with a grin, and starts towards the door.

"Sir Gwaine?" Arthur calls him back, and the knight spins on his heels to face him.

"Arthur? You need something?"

"I... yes. Take Aaron here with you will you?" Gwaine looks down at Merlin with a frown.

"Take him?"

"That's what I said Gwaine."

"To the Tavern?" Gwaine's eyebrows knit with a confused frown, because he fully intends to get rip-roaringly drunk, and Arthur appears to be suggesting he take this boy with him too, this boy who so much seems to remind him of... Gwaine shakes his head. Never mind. _He_ was gone. And not coming back. _Right?_

"Yes... he's getting under my feet, And... Just, go. Attend to me later, alright Aaron?"

"Yes, Sire." Merlin nods with a confused, slightly upset frown, and quickly empties his water bucket out the window, then stashes the bucket and brush in a cupboard. When he turns, Gwaine's staring at him with a suspicious look, his mouth curving slight with a frown.

"Sir Gwaine?" Merlin asks, and Gwaine shakes himself, eyes focusing roughly, and grins.

"Aye, Aaron was it?" Merlin nods "Right! Come with me then lad, I'll show you a good time! See you Princess!" And Gwaine drags the boy away by the arm.

Merlin looks back over his shoulder, eyes pleading. _What have you put me in for Arthur?_ They cry.

"Now there was this onetime..." Gwaine begins to ramble, Merlin's arm clutched tightly in his grasp as he pulls him away and out of sight.

Arthur can't help but laugh.


	37. Chapter 37

Thirty Seven

Gwaine was passed out over his shoulder.

And he was heavy.

Merlin sighs and hoiks him up higher, so his feet drag less on the floor as Merlin lugs his stupid weight through the castle corridors towards the Knight's rooms. It's dark and the torches are burning lowly, Merlin can only guess what god forsaken hour of the morning it is. It's been a great night, a group of the other knights had joined them, and they'd had a right laugh. Non-one seemed to mind that Merlin had nursed the same half pint all evening, while Gwaine had downed who-knows how many consecutively.

It was just like when he'd gone out with the lads before.

As Merlin.

Except not.

Not quite. As friendly as the knights were, there was just something... lacking in the way they treated Aaron to how they'd treated Merlin. A lost spark perhaps.

Merlin misses that.

Expect for Gwaine, Gwaine had been dashingly friendly, chatting away like they'd known each other for years, laughing and ribbing him for silly things and ordering Merlin pints that the warlock seems to remember the Knight had all drunk himself... which is what usually happens when Gwaine drags him to the tavern. When he dragged _Merlin_ to the tavern... But then, of course, Gwaine is naturally friendly, and can create a spark like that with anyone... and he was also rip-roaringly drunk. Merlin thinks this probably helped, or at least contributed, to his over-familiarity.

Merlin's had a great time anyway, but he's exhausted now, the excitement of the night has taken its toll, and Gwaine's dead weight isn't helping much. He stifles a wide yawn, and resists the urge to rub the sleep from his eyes as it clouds his vision. He blinks slowly, his whole body aching, and yawns again, dragging his feet along the long stone corridor that seems to go on forever.

"Merlin..." a soft, eerie voice calls out into the darkness. Merlin jumps. His heart pounding. Someone called his name. Or something. Gwaine is slipping down off his shoulder, heavy and cumbersome, as he whirls round, eyes wide, breathing erratic to see a shadowed form, lurking in the darkness just beyond the range of the torch-glow... "I knew a boy named Merlin once..." the shadowed figure has a darkly thoughtful voice, as it moves forward slightly into the light, and Merlin can make out the shadowy figure of Eldric.

"Y...You did?" Merlin desperately tries to calm his beating heart as it pounds loudly in his ears and Merlin is gripped with fear. Fear that Eldric knows, knows who he is... maybe even... what he can do... Merlin chokes, stumbling backwards at the thought, whole body seizing up like a deer in headlights, pupils blown wide.

"Yes." Eldric's teeth glint pearly white in the half-darkness as he tilts his head to the side smiles, lighting up with the whites of his eyes, dark pupils glittering in the flickering flames. The grin is feral, hungry, like a panther waiting to pounce on its next meal. "He was the prince's_ last_ Manservant." The emphasis Eldric puts on the word _'last'_ makes Merlin shudder. "I... did away with him... so to speak." Merlin takes another large, shaky step back, conscious of Gwaine's heavy weight on his shoulder. He doesn't think he could run if he had to. And he wouldn't just leave Gwaine. Not a chance. "I told the King he was some kind of sorcerer!" Eldric laughs, high and cold. "Stupid old fool believed me, and it was bye bye Merlin." His maniacal grin widens and he runs his tongue over his teeth again reflecting the look Merlin feels a particularly hungry predator would possess. "Then I got the job." Eldric rolls his head on his shoulder, his neck producing a cracking sound that makes Merlin cringe. "But then you came along..." The other servant takes a step forward, towards Merlin, and Merlin steps back. The warlock's back bumps a wooden section of the wall behind him. A door! He could make an escape! He could... Merlin grasps the handle with his hand twisted behind his back. Then, his heart sinks, with the sudden, awful realisation that none of the main castle doors had handles like this... only the storage cupboards. A door that goes nowhere. _No escape._ Merlin's heart is in his throat, beating wildly. He feels sick. A little dizzy. "And I lost my lovely little job... All my plans were ruined." Eldric sneers at him.

"Plans?" Merlin frowns. _What plans had Eldric got?_ Merlin had just thought Eldric wanted the job, his pay. That's what Arthur had said. "Don't you just want the money, the station? Isn't that why you... got rid of... this other manservant?" The sick feeling in Merlin's stomach intensifies as Eldric just beaks out into gales of maniacal laughter.

"Oh, I did at first. I wanted the power, the money, the glory that comes with being the personal servant of the Prince. But then I realised, after Uther had bought my little story, and the boy was to be hung, that little Prince Arthur is not all he's cracked up to be. Tried to save the supposed-sorcerer he did." Eldric smirks. "Magic is evil! And there the Crown Prince was! Defending a Sorcerer! He's corrupted the monarchy! His blood is bad! He's bewitched! He needs... removing... let's say..." Eldric cracks his neck again and grins, taking another step closer to Merlin. The silvery glint of a blade can be seen in the firelight. A knife. Merlin forgets how to breathe. "So you know what I thought I'd do? I thought that when I got my job back, I'd find the perfect moment and assassinate the prince! A moment when everyone is watching! When they'll see the traitors downfall!" His voice cracks up into gales of laughter once more. "And what better to do that at his side! As his own manservant!"

"You're crazy." Merlin shakes his head, eyeing the dangerous blade the madman carried and pressing his back firmly against the useless door; Gwaine is heavy and of no use sprawled on his shoulder. He can't use magic. He can't be seen. Not by Eldric.

He won't risk it.

He won't risk Arthur's plan to disguise him being found out.

He won't risk Arthur.

"But then you, little Aaron! You!" the blade is raised and used to point menacingly at Merlin "You got in the way! You took my job! My job! And I lost my chance!"

"Good!" Merlin hisses, teeth bared in a growl. "Good! You're insane!" He cries, hoping someone will hear, someone will come running. Gods, he's facing a lunatic with a knife, and he can't use magic!

He can't!

He won't.

"How dare you!" Eldric roars, swinging his blade in the air in the manner a flower girl waves the flowers around at a wedding. Carelessly. Thoughtlessly. The comparison poses a horrible juxtaposition in Merlin's head. "I used to be rather good with the throwing knife, you know." Eldric grins, teeth glinting in his hysterical laughter. "That's how I'll kill him... The pretty prince! And, Aaron... that's how I'll kill you!" The squire roars and slashes the blade downwards in a great sweeping arc towards Merlin's stomach. And he can't use magic, he can't, and...

_Shiiinnnnggggg._

Merlin's shoved roughly to the side.

He sprawls against a convenient pillar.

Metal clashes with metal as the knife blade meets the blow a sword.

_Gwaine!_

The knight stands before Merlin, long hair wild around his face, eyes dark and angry.

"Like hell." He spits, shoving Eldric up against the wall. "You're not going to touch a hair on his goddam head!" Eldric gargles uselessly pinned with a thick forearm across his throat, hands scrabbling at the limb that holds him in place. Merlin stares at him, stares at this wild knight protecting Arthur, his prince, strong and tall and... Gwaine sways where he stands... completely drunk.

"You're familiar, boy." Merlin jumps when he realises Eldric is addressing him over Gwaine's arm, voice oddly distorted by the pressure applied to his voice-box. It's still clearly a sneer though. Like Merlin isn't worth the soil from under the man's boot. "At least, I thought you were. Reminded me of the last, stupid, bumbling manservant... guess I must be confusing you. You pathetic serving types are all the same! Useless!" Merlin's heart leaps as he realises Eldric doesn't know who he is after all! He had just been guessing! Trying to rattle him! Merlin's secret was safe! But... there's a flash of silver in the dark. Eldric's other hand, sweeping towards the soft flesh of Gwaine's stomach. Gwaine who's too drunk to react in time and...

"Look out!" Merlin cries, but he's too late, as Gwaine grunts in pain, doubling over before crashing to the floor with a choked yell.

"Pathetic." Eldric spits on him, Gwaine glaring up from under his long fringe as he wipes the glob from his cheek with his shoulder. His hands are pressed to a rapidly growing splotch of red on his torso, and his eyes are crinkled with pain. Merlin runs forward, desperate to do something, anything, but his shoved back against the wall. Gwaine cries out as Eldric kicks him hard in the chest. Merlin's head hits the wall.

"I don't have time for this..." Eldric snarls.

And all is darkness.

**A/N: Longer chapter! Yey! :D**

**Hope you like this one! Another evil cliffie... oopsie... but I shall update asap!**

**Drop me a review to tell me what you think? Would be greatly appreciated!**

**Lenle G.**


	38. Chapter 38

Thirty Eight

By the time Merlin gathers his senses, he realises its pitch black and he's trapped in an enclosed space. And his head aches and pounds something terrible.

Like he's been run over by a carthorse.

Then he remembers what had happened. And fear douses his whole body like a bucket of ice cold water being thrown over him. His heart sticks in his throat. He winces at the pain in his head.

_Right._ He thinks, once thinking becomes less painful, and his eyes attempt to adjust to the dark. _There's a crazy madman out to kill Arthur, and I'm stuck in a... cupboard?_ Probably the small storage room whose door he'd been leaning on previously. Merlin's about to use magic to blow open the door, the very words to do so on the tip of his tongue, when he feels something warm, and wriggling and _breathing _move against him.

Merlin freezes.

Perhaps Eldric had trapped him with some kind of magical beast. A venomous snake that might inject poison into his veins. Or a great beast with horrible, sharp teeth that would tear great gouges in his skin. Or a winged giant bird, with great talons that could rip him apart. Or...

Merlin readies his magic, defensive spells switched for those on the tip of his tongue in an instant.

He's about to curse the thing back to whatever god forsaken hell hole it crawled out of but...

Then the thing gives a very human, manly, groan.

"Why do I feel like someone's stabbed me in the gut?" Gwaine's voice rings out in the darkness, and Merlin breathes a sigh of relief.

"You alright?" He asks, trying to keep the worry from his voice. If Gwaine had been stabbed...

"Yeah, think so... blade didn't go too deep..." He groans again "just got a nice gash. He bashed me on the head and lobbed me in here. Doors locked by what looks like a deadbolt..." and looking up at the door, Merlin can just about make out exactly that in the gloom. No trouble for magic though.

"I can pick locks." Merlin tries to pull himself to his feet, attempting valiantly to ignore the way the world was lilting and spinning in the darkness. Predictably, he ends up on his rear again.

"You alright?" Gwaine repeats his question back at him.

"Mmm..." Merlin mumbles "give me a minute..."

"I'm not sure we have one... He's gone to kill Arthur... we could have been in here hours... I don't know... Long enough for me to have sobered up..." Gwaine groans again.

"He said he wanted to kill him in front of people... he'll wait 'till daylight. Until the meeting in the great hall! The knighting ceremony Uther's holding! That's when he'll strike!"

"He took my sword." Gwaine says lowly into the blackness. "How're we going to save Arthur? We'll probably get locked up for attacking a Squire... I..." he takes a deep heaving breath, and Merlin wonders how bad his injury is. "We have no proof... I... are you prepared to risk... I don't know... this could mean everything... your life even... you might be killed before we can even try... I..." Here he takes another deep breath, as if struggling with something. "I can't lose you again."

Merlin freezes.

"W...what? I..." Merlin gives a nervous laugh. "I don't know what you mean."

"I think you do." Gwaine's eyes are sharp and focused in the darkness, staring at the boy before him. Not hit of a smile or joke on his usually jovial face. "I can't lose you again... Merlin."

Merlin heart feels like it's stopped.

_He can't know!_

_He can't!_

_No-one can!_

"W..who?" Merlin laughs nervously again, eyes wide, heart in throat, voice jittering around like "My name's Aaron... Aaron Syrme... I..."

Merlin thinks' he's going to be sick. No one can know! Or he'll have to leave! Arthur will be in danger! He's not Merlin he's not! He cant be! Not here. Here he's just Aaron, and...

"You can't fool me, Merlin."

Merlin's eyes are adjusting to the dark, and he can make out Gwaine's face, serious and calm in the gloom.

"No one, not in the whole of Camelot and beyond, drinks like you in a pub. Half a pint Merlin? Honestly!"

"I... It's... I'm not... I... I'm not me!" Merlin stammers though trying to find the right words to convince the roguish knight otherwise.

"_Merlin._" Gwaine reprimands and Merlin knows the game is up, he's been found out, he was given away... by... by...

"My drinking habits gave me away?!" Merlin splutters in disbelief, and stares at Gwaine as his whole body physically slumps.

"So I'm right?" Gwaine breathes a sigh of relief, and Merlin suddenly feels big, strong arms wrapping around his torso. "You did seem so familiar. I wondered why. Why Aaron was so much like Merlin, but...Gods Merlin... Gods... I... we... I thought we'd lost you forever."

"We?"

"The knights and everyone. Guinevere, The Lady Morgana, Arthur even! Gods Merlin we thought you'd probably fallen off a cliff by now or something!" A long silence reins, and then it dawns on him. "Oh no... nooooo. They knew didn't they? Those gits all knew and you didn't tell me!?"

"It was Arthur's idea..."

Gwaine grits his teeth and looks tempted to bash someone's head against the stone walls, whether his own or Merlin's, the warlock isn't sure.

"Arthur's Idea?! Never-had-a-good-idea-in-his-life Arthur?! And you listened?! You... You Idiot! This is a stupid, dangerous, get-you-killed idea!" He gripped the front of Merlin's tunic and shook him by the shoulders. "What on Earth was Arthur thinking!"

"I..."

"What on Earth were you thinking!?"

"Gwaine..." comes the tiny voice "You hurting me..."

And Gwaine, big strong Gwaine, looks down at the boy, the tiny boy before him, because Merlin's not much more than that, and unfists his hands from Merlin's shirt, where it had been pulling tight around his neck. Where purple bruises poked out from the edge of a lopsided scarf.

"You're hurt?" Gwaine suddenly feel like all the air in the room has evaporated, and he can't breathe.

"I'm fine." Merlin murmurs stubbornly, and Gwaine supposes that means he's not fine at all, but the boy doesn't want to worry him, or Arthur. Arthur... Gwaine sighs, head softly dropping down onto Merlin's skinny shoulder. Merlin adjusts his scarf again, a soft woollen brown one, not at all like his usual neckerchiefs, so it covers the bruising.

"What were you thinking?" He all but whispers into the fabric of Merlin's servant's garb. "Uther thinks your some kind of hocus pocus sorcerer of doom or something, he'll kill you!" There's a long awkward silence. "Merlin?" Gwaine frowns. More silence. Gwaine feels a knot of unease build in his stomach. He feels slightly sick. "You're not a sorcerer?" He half laughs. Then his eyes grow wide, staring at the boy before him. At idiotic, normal, silly Merlin. "Are you?"

The silence tells him all he needs to know.

**A/N: This chapter is for GeorgiPorgiePuddingandPie! Because it's her Birthday today! :D :D :D **

**Yeyyyyyyy! My little Georgi's all growing up *wipes theatrical tear* :'3 xxx**

**Ok... I'm posting this as two mins past midnight, but hey! Biiiirrrthhhdayyyyssssss! WHOOOOOPPPP! :D :D :D xxx**

**Have a whelming one Georgi! :D :D :D xxx**

**Hope all you readers liked this chapter! Drop me a review if you did!**

**Lenle G.**  
Have a


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter Thirty Nine

"You're not a sorcerer?" Gwaine half laughs. Then his eyes grow wide, staring at the boy before him. At idiotic, normal, silly Merlin. "Are you?"

The silence tells him all he needs to know.

Merlin can't breathe. He feels like he's floundering way out in the ocean, with no hope of rescue. He could laugh it off. _A sorcerer me? That's ridiculous!_ And Gwaine might believe him. Or he could admit it. His chest tightens at the thought. Merlin can't even think of the words he'd use. But his silence has spoken for him. And...

"Does Arthur know?" Gwaine's words jolt Merlin from his thoughts, making his head snap up to meet Gwaine's dark, serious eyes.

_He knows._

And Merlin can't deny his magic. He can't.

"I... I'm not..." he tries to formulate the lie, but it feels horrible and bitter on his tongue. The sick feeling in his stomach intensifies. Gwaine's serious eyes tell him his efforts are futile. "He does." Merlin whispers. "Him and Gaius."

All of Gwaine's breath seems to leave him in one great exhale.

"Gods Merlin..." he can only murmur. "Magic? You?"

Merlin can only nod.

Gwaine heaves a huge sigh.

"Ok. Right, ok." He shakes his whole frame and runs a hand roughly over his face, as if trying to pull himself together. "You can use magic. Arthur knows. And you're exiled from the kingdom. How the hell are you still alive!?" Gwaine barks out a sudden harsh laugh at himself, making Merlin jump. "You idiot!" then he sighs again. "Ok. Right. Sorry." He runs though the 'pulling myself together' movements again. The deep seated feeling in Merlin's chest, the fear Gwaine might tell someone, the fear he might have to leave his home, that he might die, only intensifies the longer Gwaine pauses. "How did Arthur find out?"

"I think I saved his life." Merlin voice is tiny and weak. "The evening of the execution, he came to see me..." Merlin pauses here thinking about all the things Arthur had said before he'd known, all that determination he'd had.

_"I will help you, Merlin" _The Prince had he had helped Merlin in the end. He had kept that promise. Now Arthur was in danger. He needed Merlin's help.

"And on his way back up, he slipped on a step." Merlin barks out a short humourless laugh. "Idiot would have cracked his head open."

"So you stopped him from falling?"

Merlin nods at this.

"With magic?"

Merlin nods again.

"Ok." Gwaine says simply, with a nod.

Merlin's head snaps up, and stares at him.

"Ok?" His eyebrows knit together in confusion. "OK?"

"Yes. Ok." Gwaine's grinning now, like his talking to a particularly slow child.

"I... your... not running round screaming that I'm some crazy magician and that I should die?" Merlin observes with a puzzled half frown, as if he really can't work out why he's not, and Gwaine laughs.

"No, Merlin. Not I'm not."

"Oh." Is all the response Merlin's short-circuiting brain can formulate. "Why not?"

"Because you're my friend Merlin, sorcerer or not, and I..."

"Warlock." Merlin corrects automatically.

"I... what?"

"I'm a warlock, not a sorcerer." Merlin mumbles.

"Your... there's a difference?"

"Warlocks," Merlin heaves a breath "are born with their magic. They have no control over having it. They just... sort of... do. And urm... Sorcerer's... they study magic, learn it. Choose it. But you see... as a warlock, magic just sort of... chose me."

Gwaine's mouth opens and closes soundlessly like some sort of demented fish. Merlin chokes out a nervous laugh.

"Ok..." Gwaine concludes finally, then. "Ok." he repeats, a little surer of himself and his words. "As I was saying, urm... I'm not, how did you put it? Running round screaming that you're a crazy magician and that you should die, because... I trust you. You're my friend Merlin, _warlock_ or not, and I know you. There's not an ounce of evil in that skinny little body of yours you idiot. I've... I've seen magic do great things, good things. I've travelled a lot in my life, Merlin, I once saw a little girl, not much older than five or six, heal a sparrow's wing with a golden glow from her hands and eyes. It... spooked me at the time, and I got out of there as fast as possible, but... urm... I realised, after, that magic, how it's used, how, evil, it is, I suppose, depends on the user. And Merlin, your about as evil as a girls petticoat." He snorts.

"Urm... thanks?" Merlin mumbles, brain still trying to process the information it's just been given.

Gwaine trusts him!

"I'm still annoyed you didn't tell me sooner" Gwaine casually comments, and Merlin nearly chokes on the air he's breathing.

"Urm, right, yeah. Sorry." Merlin sheepishly rubs at the back of his head.

"But we still need to get out of here." Merlin nods in agreement.

"Arthur's in danger."

"You ok to do this?" Gwaine's eyes are piercing in the dark. "It could mean your life."

"It could mean yours too." Merlin points out with a quick comment and Gwaine chuckles darkly.

"Just be careful. Right?"

"You too." Merlin nods and turns to face the deadbolt on the door.

"Ready?" Merlin asks, and Gwaine heaves himself more upright, limbs tensing, ready to face whatever might be out that door waiting for them.

Merlin raises one hand to palm facing outwards towards the handle and lock.

Every hair on Gwaine's body prickles with an icy unease._ Was Merlin going to use magic?_

"_Kcolnu_" Merlin hisses under his breath, and his eyes glow molten gold.

Gwaine forgets how to breathe.

Time seems to slow down.

There's a loud, long scraping sound, as the bolt is gradually drawn across on the other side of the door.

Gwaine stares at the boy beside him. The skinny silly boy. From a normal village. With a nice, normal mother. Nice normal upbringing. Nice normal job. Nice normal daily routine. Nice normal friends. And yet, he's somehow, there's never been anything normal about Merlin.

There's always been something about Merlin, and now Gwaine realises it...

The door swings open.

...Merlin is extraordinary.

**A/N: Yey! Another Update! I really hope you peeps all like this chapter! Gwaine and Merlin working together! Yey! Send me a review to tell me what you think? :3**

**Thanks for reading,**

**Lenle G**


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter Forty

The corridor is blissfully empty.

Small weak shafts of sunlight filtered down from the top of a flight of stairs from the right, and the light contrasted with the bright orange of the torches burning in their brackets on the stone walls. They needed to get up those stairs. Merlin checks himself over quickly and discovers a small egg shaped lump on the back of his skull. No-wonder he had a headache.

He looks up at Gwaine, who was checking himself over for damage in much the same manner.

"Thanks by the way..." Merlin murmurs quietly. "For helping me back there, with Eldric..."

"I wasn't going to let him hurt you again... that..." Gwaine grits out through clenched teeth followed by a beautiful array of colourful words that went to great and untold depths to describe Eldric.

_"You're not going to touch a hair of his head!"_

He'd meant him! Merlin realises. Not Arthur. He'd been protecting Merlin!

A small smile winds its way onto Merlin's lips.

"How's your injury?" He asks, worrying at the crimson brown stain that marred on side of his otherwise plain brown tunic. Merlin takes a moment to remember the lack of chainmail was because Gwaine insisted on taking it off before they went to the pub, to 'blend better' with the locals.

"Scabbed over. A little painful, but not too deep, I can deal with it. Any idea what the time is?"

They took the stairs two at a time, emerging in a long empty corridor, golden sunlight streaming in from arched windows and bathing the flagstones at their feet with warmth.

"Morning." Merlin says grimly. "Quite late..." the _maybe too late_ went unspoken, "Where is everyone?"

"Not sure, the great hall would be the best bet if the knighting ceremony's already started..."

The two exchanges a long look then take to their heels, sprinting down the corridor like their lives depended on it.

Arthur's depended on it.

They take a left turn, then a right, then up more stairs, Merlin nearly tripping over a poorly placed potted plant.

Then they're there.

Stood in front of the two massive, imposing oak doors to the great hall.

"Ready?" Gwaine asks and Merlin can only nod.

Because this might mean exposing himself. Might mean everyone knowing who he is. Perhaps what he is. But that's ok, because for Arthur, it doesn't matter.

As long as Arthur's ok.

But the terrible thing, the thing that fills him with dread as they take up a handle each and prepare to swing open the heavy wooden doors, is that they might, already, be too late.

One last glance at each other and the doors swing open.

**A/N: I have returned! ... Ok... so I forgot to mention I was going away for a week and a bit to London... Tehehe... sorry. We took a group of Girl guides down to the capital to see the Paralympics, which was truely incredible, and I've had a great time.**

**But no internet.**

**Which was not so great. XP**

**But yes! I'm back with my little laptop and back to writing! **

**Thanks for reading, update shall appear tomorrow at some point. Drop me a review to let me know your still out there reading. *Crosses fingers hopefully*. **

**Lenle G.**


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter Forty One

"For the sake of Camelot and the re..."

CRASH.

The two huge double doors to the great hall smash open, the sound reverberating through the whole room, as every knight, servant and Royal Pratt spun on their heels to face them, to see the small, skinny serving boy, white faced yet determined standing tall next to the bold, strong knight with a bloodied crimson stain splashed across his tunic.

"Stop!" the boy hollers. "Stop!" And Arthur can only stare at the idiot_. What the hell is he doing? Trying to get himself killed._ An anxious knot forms in his chest at the thought.

"Aaron..." Arthur's voice is dangerous and low with warning, being careful to use the blasted right name. "What, exactly, do you think you're doing?" The crown prince stalks towards him, jaw set firmly, eyes full of fire and questioning. Merlin looks like a spooked horse, so pale, so afraid. The anxious knot tightens itself and Arthur thinks he feels a bit sick.

The stupid boy anxiously scans the crowd as if looking for someone, eyes glancing over the furious face of the king (well aware he'd cut him off from a important speech mid-sentence) and the young knight kneeling before the man, ready to be knighted. Merlin swallows audibly, hard, hands jittery.

"Arthur." He snaps his attention back to the Prince; his voice is urgent and panicked, breath coming in quick, short bursts, like he's been running. Like he's truly frightened. And Gwaine was _bleeding_ for goodness sake! What on Earth was going on?! Merlin takes small unsteady steps towards him; his eyes are slightly unfocused and his steps unsteady, like he's hit his head and not yet recovered. Arthur resists the urge to run to him, (stuff the court of people watching, stuff his stupid father,) to wrap the fragile boy in a hug of all things and demand to know what the hell happened. But then Merlin's cry of: "He said he was going to kill you! I..." Makes the blood in Arthur's veins freeze. _Kill him?_

There's a collective gasp from around the room, which halts the boy's speech. The hum of murmuring breaks out somewhere then ripples through the crowd like an uncontrollable tidal wave, as they shift uneasily and look around for assassins in the dark.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Uther strides down from the platform, dark and authorities, and terrifying enough to make Merlin pale further and whirl round on his heel to face the King. Arthur stumbles towards Merlin, hoping in some way that if his father orders Merlin killed or something; he can better protect the idiot.

"Sire!" The servant cries. "He's here somewhere, armed with throwing knives! He told us he was going to kill Arthur. He's crazy! A Madman! Wants revenge! Thinks..."

"Who, Merlin you idiot!? Who are you talking about?!" Arthur grabs his shoulders and shakes the boy roughly, gritting his teeth.

Then he freezes, Merlin's shoulder's still clenched tightly beneath his hands, a look of fear and shock on the boy's face.

Arthur's heart drops like a stone to his boots.

He'd just called him Merlin out loud.

Not Aaron.

But _Merlin_.

He'd just exposed him.

In front of everyone.

His father was standing right there, and he exposed him. And...

Arthur can't breathe.

"Merlin?" Arthur turns back to Uther's whose face is cold and stony, voice sharp and icy.

"I got confused... I ..." Arthur stammers, the gears in his brain struggling to click together. Trying to form some sort of excuse, any excuse. All it produces is a large number of swear words that would probably help neither of them...

"The sorcerer?" Uther hisses, eyes narrowed into slits. "You're the sorcerer!" His sword is drawn from its scabbard with a loud _shiiinnngggg_.

"He's not Merlin, It was just a slip of the tongue, I was confused I..." Arthur places himself firmly between Merlin and his father, but the effect is lost slightly as he stutters over his words, hands visibly shaking, heart feeling like led.

This was all his fault, he'd exposed Merlin. His father will kill him; kill Merlin, Arthur's sure. There's no way out this time. He feels sick. He's trembling. He's such an idiot. He chokes on the air he's breathing, desperate to get his father to believe him to understand, because he couldn't let Merlin, poor, sweet Merlin, be harmed, not again, it was all his fault and his eyes were burning with unshedable tears and...

"Sire." Merlin's hand comes to rest on Arthur's shoulder, and the prince's head jolts up to look across at the warlock, suddenly feeling so small, so weak, next to the boy at his side. He realises the hand on his shoulder is no longer shaking. Not even the smallest of tremors. Merlin stands tall and strong and brave, face calm, speech efficient. He brushes past Arthur, who can only stare as the boy bows low before his father, submitting to his rule. "I am here, returned despite your wishes and commands, out of dedication and love for your son and the people of Camelot. I mean you no harm, but I have to deliver an urgent message. You may punish me however you see fit for my return, as I have despite being banned from the kingdom, however, I must tell you this. Your Son is in grave danger right now. And you need to listen to me." Merlin's not begging, he's ordering. Uther's eyes remained narrowed and cold, sword held tightly in his fist. The words 'filthy sorcerer' so ready to tumble from his frowning lips. However he merely inclines his head, jaw stiff, as an indication to continue. Merlin's sigh of relief is audible only to Arthur. "This last evening, Sir Gwaine, the honourable knight" Uther looks up as the boy gestures to the man, past Merlin at Gwaine, as if seeing the wounded man for the first time, he gives a nod of acknowledgment. "and I" Uther's eyes narrow at the boy again. "Were walking back along the corridor from the low west entrance, when we were attacked by him, and he swore to kill Arthur."

"He did Sire!" Gwaine stumbles forward, one arm clasped across his mid-section where the deep red stain has leeched out into the fabric of his tunic. Arthur thinks he really should be lying down or something, and hopes Gaius has treated him. Gwaine attempts a clumsy bow. "He's a madman, he..."

"Who?" Arthur almost shouts in irritation. "You haven't said who!?"

"I haven't?" Merlin's brow's crease in a frown. "Come on Arthur! Who else could I be talking about; It's him who's trying to kill you, El..."

The whistle of a keen knife blade slicing the air cuts him off.

A muffled thump.

Merlin stares in horror at Arthur; system flooded with sharp relief the knife hasn't hit him.

But then Uther staggers forward and slumps forwards to the ground.

Maniacal laughter fills the room.

There's a dagger in his back.

There's a dagger in the King's back.

And its Arthur's anguished cry that pieces Merlin's heart.

**A/N: Gyaaah! A evil cliffe! Sorry about that! XD**

**I've had a long day packing and sorting stuff for Uni... I kinda had to stab someone... *Evil grin* XD**

**Thanks for reading! Drop me a review if you liked it! Or if you just think I'm really evil... which I am... *cue yet another evil grin***

**Lenle G.**


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter Forty Two

"Father!" Arthur roars lunging forward, sprinting across the hall and crashing to his knees at the king's side. "Father!"

Utter pandemonium breaks out, people shouting and screaming and running, banging on the heavy oaken doors too disorganised and disorientated to join together to open them. Guards are tustling people. So much noise. Amongst the mess a little girl is screaming. Merlin's head is pounding. He can't tell where the knife came from. His feet are moving by themselves. He can't see Eldric is the hubbub. The mess. But he's here, Merlin knows he is.

And he has to protect Arthur.

Arthur who is shaking his Father's shoulder, calling his name over and over, face full of a terrible, painful fear.

"Merlin!" he can see Gaius trying valiantly to push his way out of the crowd, to get to them, but he is forced back by a hysterical woman screaming for her son in the pandemonium.

"Gaius!" Merlin falls to his knees beside Arthur, scanning the crowd for the old man. Uther needed his help, and quickly. "Gaius! Where...?"

"Merlin!" the old physician's head bobs up in the sea of people again, but is quickly submerged in the throng. He's not going to get here in time.

But hopefully, if Gaius can't get to them, then Eldric can't.

_Unless he starts hurting civilians._ A horrible voice in the back of Merlin's mind reminds him. _How far can he throw a knife from?_

Uther is paper white, breath coming in short pained wheezes. He lies on his front, head turned to one side, shoulder being shaken valiantly by Arthur, knife lodged just below his shoulder blade. Merlin takes a deep breath.

"Arthur" he pushes him back, taking his place as his Father's side. "Look out for Eldric with Gwaine."

Arthur only nods once, face torn with grief, and then he's on his feet, back to back with Gwaine, scanning the writhing mass of the crowd. He realises that if they don't stop, and calm down soon, someone going to get hurt. Rage crosses his features, Eldric's done this, hurt his father, hurt Merlin, is hurting his people.

Merlin assesses the wound quickly, but he can hardly think with all this noise. He never was very good with healing spells, and the words are eluding him as his head pounds. The knock he'd taken to it earlier was really painful.

Merlin takes a deep breath, he'd been considering using magic in front of all these people, and to save Arthur, Merlin is sure he would.

But the thought still frightens him.

He takes another look at the wound. The knife seems to have not gone very deep, blood oozing out either side of the wound. Merlin carefully grasps the handle, trying his hardest not to jolt it, and pulls it quickly and efficiently out. Uther moans loudly, blood welling up in the wound and spilling out into the fabric of his tunic. _Everyone should always wear chainmail. _Merlin thinks with a frown, first Gwaine, then Uther. Merlin worryingly notes Arthur's not wearing any either. _He'll be fine_. He tells himself, as he pressed as he pulls his scarf from around his neck and presses it to the wound. Not like he needed to be disguised by it now, everyone knew who he was. Merlin feels slightly sick, and pulls the wig off too.

_Arthur won't let them hang me._ Merlin tells himself, trying valiantly to believe it.

He winds his scarf around the man's torso, covering the wound tightly like a roll of bandage. He'd be alright; the knife doesn't seem to have hit anything vital or anything, and the wounds long but shallow. Yet it'd be a bad idea to just leave him here in the middle of the floor.

"Arthur!" Merlin tries to shout over the din, pointing vaguely. "Arthur! Help me get him over there, by the throne. We need Gaius too!"

Merlin sees Arthur spin round and stare at him puzzled, and shakes his head. Merlin realises he can't hear him.

Arthur growls lowly to himself, this was ridiculous, and they were giving him a headache.

"SIIIIIIILENCE!" Arthur roars over the crowd.

Instant quiet falls.

"Let me through!" Gaius' voice calls out somewhere amongst the people, and the nervously shifting crowds part like the red sea to let him through.

"We need to get him up there." Merlin tells Arthur, pointing towards the steps up to the throne. Arthur nods efficiently, and scans the crowd.

"Percival, Lancelot, Leon, Elyan, to me." He calls out the knights, and they appear from the crowd, rushing to his side.

"Sorry." Lancelot explains, "Couldn't get through with all that confusion."

Arthur nods.

"Percival, Leon, Carry him, up behind the throne, it should provide some cover for Gaius to treat him. Stay with them and guard them. Elyan, go with them as an extra guard. Gwaine, Lancelot, look out for Eldric."

"He's really trying to kill you..." Elyan points out unhelpfully, and Arthur only nods.

"Merlin..." Arthur starts, but the knights push in front of him, each embracing the boys tightly, patting him on the head, and ribbing him joyfully.

"Good to see you. How the, you know, going?" Lancelot grins, wiggling his fingers at the boy in a distinctly magical manner.

"Oh don't tell me you knew too!" Gwaine groans at his side, striking his forehead with the heel of his hand. "No one tells me anything!"

"That's because you'd tell the entire population of the nearest bar if we did." Leon chuckles as he and Percival scoop up the King as if he was no more than a child, and carry him off. Merlin doesn't miss the underlying seriousness in all the knight's voices.

"If it's any consolation," Elyan mentions as he strides towards the throne, "I didn't know either. What exactly are we supposed to know?"

"Good question!" Leon shouts back over his shoulder.

"I second that." comes Percival's voice before he's shushed by Gaius as he sets to work.

"Nevermind." Merlin mutters. "Just concentrate on looking out for Eldric. So he can't take us by surprise again. And... Morgana?" he breaks off, because there she is, skirts hitched up, striding towards them, sword (procured from who knows where) in her hand, Gwen, similarly armed in tow.

"Don't count me out." She hisses as she hugs him tightly.

"Me neither." Gwen adds, with a swift hug and an anxious smile.

"Right... Guinevere..." Arthur swallows, he can't allow her to be harmed, nor can he tell her to go back to safety, Eldric could be anywhere. "Go to your brother, stay with Elyan, keep an eye out for Eldric as Gaius treats my father. Morgana..."

"I am staying right here." She glares at him from Merlin's side, and Arthur nods at her, knowing trying to stop her fighting is futile. Like she'd listen if he told her to stand down or hide behind the throne with the king. He sighs audibly.

"Just be careful." He adds, and she snorts dismissively at him.

Arthur eyes the crowd, who are still shifting nervously, and turns to address them.

"People of Camelot. Remain calm." He pauses thinking quickly. "My Father is injured but receiving treatment, he shall be fine." The prince takes a deep breath, hoping his words sound confident "In the mean time, please regain the place you were standing in for the knighting ceremony. Knights," He addresses a bunch of guards and knights who'd been there for the knighting earlier. "Please ensure this happens and that no-one leaves this room, until the culprit is found."

"His name is Eldric." Merlin chips in, addressing the crowd fearlessly as they move back to where they should be standing, uniform rows appearing in almost dead silence. No-one dares speak. They all regard Merlin with a slight look of worry, perhaps fear. _How many believe him to be evil? _"He was acting as the Prince's manservant while I was away, got a job as a stable boy when fired, and then became a squire. You all know of him, he's in this room somewhere, dangerous and armed, and one of you must be able to see..." He's cut off by a quickly smothered scream, then:

"Don't. Move."

Merlin spins on his feet, to find Eldric, pulling himself from the crowd with a dark laugh and glinting eyes. A long, sharp blade at the throat of a young girl. A child. With soft blond pigtails and a pretty frock. A little girl.

The one who had been screaming.

"Elena!" A woman screams, pushing forward against the barrier of the crowd. A strong, muscular man with a furious expression hold her back.

"Don't Annie, don't!"

"Silence!" Eldric roars, pressing the blade harder against the child's throat. "Or I'll kill her!"

The woman, Annie, a kitchen maid, gives a choked sob, and struggles in the man's arms, her husband by the look of the matching wedding bands they wear, before flopping in his arms and sobbing into his chest.

"Prince Arthur." Eldric grins darkly. "You will surrender yourself to me. Or the child dies. A life for a life shall we say, an exchange. Prince Arthur, for this child."

"Elena!" the girl's mother screams "Elena!"

"Mummy!" The girl chokes out until she's shaken into silent sobs.

Arthur clenches his fists, a look of pure fury across his features.

Arthur takes a step forward, and Merlin's heart sinks.

The idiotic clot-pole was too noble; he would never let a child die for his sake. Never.

Arthur takes another step hand out stretched to the girl, and Merlin makes his decision. It's an easy one really.

"It's alright Elena." Arthur kindly reassures the girl. Taking another cautious step. "No-one's going to hurt you."

"No, they won't." Merlin voice is quiet and cold, and it makes Arthur turn towards him as Merlin raises his hand, eyes glowing golden.

"Let. The child. Go." The warlock growls.

And silence falls.

**A/N: The girl for the Prince? ... Silence shall fall when the question is asked... *facepalms* Oh dear... **

***Ahem* anyway, thanks for reading! If you liked it, drop me a review to tell me your thoughts. They are very tasty. *Grin***

**To the reviewer I can't respond to called 'Emma', ta da! Next chappie! Yey! :D Oh, and I'm terribly relieved to find out I'm not the only one who talks (ok, shouts) at the screen when Merlin's on... "Run Merlin you idiot! It's obviously a trap!" "Don't do that Merlin!" "Nooo! Merlin" Etc... XD**

**Thanks again peeps!**

**Lenle G.**


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter Forty Three

Silence.

Absolute dead silence.

The Eldric starts laughing.

"Oh you are kidding me! You have to be kidding me" He snorts "You really were a sorcerer all along! After all my effort making everything up! You really were one all along! Ohoohoho! Now they'll kill you anyway. Go on Princie, lop his head off."

Hisses break out from the crowd, people eyeing him with suspicion, hatred even. The people he's known for years, loved and trusted. Mags the kitchen cook who slipped him hot crackling straight from the pig, Toby the shoe shiner who always refuses Merlin's money when there's a feast on and Merlin's boots need shining, Greg the stable boy who kept a eye on his horse for him while he was tending to Arthur's, and sometimes helped him out with the mucking out. People he knew and loved and... trusted. All eyeing him like filth.

He looks back to Eldric.

"Kill the sorcerer!" Someone bold screams out from the back.

Silence again.

Merlin valiantly tries to hold his head upright. He would die for sure now. No-one would ever trust him again. Maybe not even the knights. Maybe Arthur would change his mind about him, now that he's seen how everyone else reacts. Merlin takes a deep breath, and stares straight ahead. Because it's a price worth paying.

_For Arthur._

Arthur who turns to Merlin, face full of horror. Merlin wonders if it's horror at him, or at the crowd. Merlin fixes his eyes back on the now-presumably-ex-squire.

"Dont. Move." Merlin hisses at Eldric again, strides forwards a few paces before;

"Kill the sorcerer!" Someone on the other side of the crowd shouts out. Followed by another;

"Kill him!" then;

"He's dangerous!" then everyone seems to be shouting out, calling him disgusting names.

_For Arthur._ Merlin reminds himself with a deep breath. _Always for Arthur._

"Ohohoho!" Eldric snickers with a smirk. "How the loyal turn."

"Dont. Move." Merlin repeats. Hand out, eyes glowing. The child's eyes are wide and fearful.

"It's alright Elena." Merlin smiles kindly. "It's all alright." She nods barely distinguishably against the knife pressing against her neck, and tries a shaky smile. Merlin's heart soars. She still believes in him! "Let her go, Eldric, or so help me, I will _fry _you." The cold, hard look in his eyes told anyone watching that the boy before them would have no qualms doing so if it would protect the child or the Prince.

"Merlin..." he hears Arthur's voice behind him. But the boy won't take his bright, golden eyes off Eldric.

"It doesn't matter." Eldric grins. "I've had a much better revenge now." He rolls his head on his shoulder, cricking his neck with a laugh. "Look at them. They all hate you. You're the one who's going to burn, sorcerer."

"Warlock." Merlin feebly grins, tilting his head to one side, slightly enjoying the look of confusion on the man's face.

"Whatever." Eldric hisses then suddenly shifts his posture, making Merlin jump, the knife making to stab into the girl's neck.

Merlin shouts out a quick, desperate spell, just to make the Eldric drop the knife, to get it away from his hand, away from Elena.

But then at the last second, Eldric flicks his wrist, and the knife never plunges into her slim neck, its twisted outwards, leaving his hand in a great arc.

She was a distraction, Merlin realises, as the child is shoved to the side, hitting the ground hard with a cry of pain.

Time seems to slow down.

Because the knife has left his hand, just as Merlin's magic instructed it to do.

But Eldric used his spell against him, as was his plan all along, Merlin realises, sending the blade flying through the air in the direction he wants it to go, propelled by a clever flick of his wrist.

Soaring like a deadly birth of prey.

Like a slim black and silver hawk.

Propelled by Merlin's own magic.

Straight for Arthur's chest.

Merlin sees Arthur's eyes widen in slow motion.

Merlin shouts another frantic spell, his feet flying over the ground, towards Arthur, trying to get there in time because the knife has to stop.

_Stop._

"STOP!" He roars aloud.

It wasn't a spell as such, but a pure burst of magic, imbued with only the desire to protect Arthur.

To make the blade stop.

Too close to Arthur for Merlin's comfort, the knife takes a wild plunge downwards and buries itself point first in a crack between two flagstones, at the Prince's feet.

Silence but for the ring of metal reverberating with the force of the impact, then the crowd gasps collectively, and Merlin feels horribly drained. A bit dizzy even. _How much magic did he use?_

Then the world speeds up again, and Eldric's found his feet, and he's running.

Straight at Arthur.

Clenched in his fist is another knife, its silvery blade glinting disturbingly in the warm morning light.

No time or energy for a spell, Merlin's body moves without his brain commanding it.

He's flung himself in front of Arthur before he even realises what he's doing.

And the blade is plunged deep into his chest.

"MERLIN!"

**A/N: Merlin, what is up with me and stabbing people all of a sudden? O_O**

**Annnndd yet another cliffhanger... *Evil Grin***

**Sorry bout that... XD**

**Urm... thanks for reading, urm, drop me a review to tell me how evil I am for stabbing Merlin.. Poor Merlin :'( What has this evil writer done to you?**

**Thanks again,**

**Lenle G**


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter Forty Four

"MERLIN!" Comes Arthur's wounded howl from among the screams that erupt around them, as the body in front of him crumples as weakly as parchment backwards into his arms. Arthur's sword clatters away from him, skidding on the smooth flag stones of the Great Hall's floor, as Merlin's sudden, unexpected, limp weight sends them both crashing to the ground at his feet.

Eldric's.

Who's standing over them laughing.

_Laughing._

Arthur's tail bone smarts where he landed on it, sending pain shooting up his spine, and he groans.

Merlin doesn't move.

There's a dagger, hilt deep, black and deadly in the boy's fragile chest.

Arthur can't seem to find the air to breathe.

Gwaine's white as chalk, feet pounding the ground as he runs towards them. Lancelot a heartbeat behind him. Morgana a black whirl tearing in from the opposite side with a feral howl. Gwen's scream ringing in his ears. Merlin's name on everyone's lips. Some screaming Arthur's too. Why didn't he make the idiot wear chainmail or something?

Eldric reaches behind him into a pouch on the back of his belt, and pulls out another throwing knife by its black handle. One meant for Arthur.

"Good bye little Prince." Eldric tilts his head to the side and smiles vacantly at Arthur and the limp body in his arms, crimson blood staining the front of its tunic. One of Arthur's arms has ended up draped across Merlin's stomach and is now sticking to the blood-soaked fabric. He immediately knows this wound is far worse than his father's. He can't tell if the boy's even breathing. Or if he's dead. He looks up at the man in front of him, and the smirk tell him all he needs to know. He's dead. Arthur's heart feels heavy, full of dread. Merlin's dead. He can see it in Eldric's smirking face. He's lost Merlin. Forever.

Arthur feels numb. The others are too far away. No-one to save him this time. The Prince is overwhelmed by helplessness. All desire to flight back leaves him. Because Merlin is gone. And what's the point of fighting without Merlin. Arthur can't move. Merlin's still warm weight is trapping him. Because he won't let him go. Because Merlin is safe in his arms.

It vaguely registers with Arthur that's he's crying, great silent, terrible tears streaming down both cheeks in an uncontrollable tide.

Eldric raises the gleaning blade into a throwing position above his shoulder, balanced precariously between his fingers by the dark handle. He's laughing. Laughing like he did when he killed Merlin.

Arthur closes his eyes. It's hopeless. He was going to die.

At least he'll get to see Merlin again.

His heart floods with warmth.

_Merlin._

And somehow he's smiling.

Then the warm weight in his arms shifts. A hand wracked by spasms is steadying itself on his shoulder. Arthur's eyes fly open to see the fear, pure and genuine in Eldric eyes, as Merlin uses Arthur's shoulder to push himself upright, eyes full of fire. Like some avenging angel. _Merlin! Merlin's Alive!_ All feeling floods back into Arthur's body with such a crushing sense of relief. _Merlin's alive! _His heart soars.

Eldric lets out an unholy shriek and lets the blade fly. Merlin's arm whips up, eyes glowing once more their brilliant gold. Eldric soars through the air, crashing against the hard stone wall the other end of the room, where he crumples at its base and lays unmoving. Unconscious.

But not before the second knife had buried itself in Merlin's stomach.

**A/N: Aaannnndd now i've stabbed him twice... Your all going to kill me... I'm so evil! Sorry Merlin! :'(**

**Poor little warlock, I never seem to give him a break... tehehe.**

**Well this was a small chapter, but you got a mahooosive one (by my far-too-short-chapter standards) last time, and I'll write you a longer one next time, so :P thehehe... urm... yeah... sorry bout having ANOTHER cliffhanger too... I'm rather a little too fond of them... *sheepish grin***

**SUSPENSE!**

**OF DOOM!**

***Ahem***

**Anyhoo! thanks for reading and if you have the time, please drop me a review! Your thoughts mean a lot to me! :D**

**Thanks again,**

**Lenle G.**


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter Forty Five

"Ow." Merlin murmurs weakly. And Arthur can only scramble to his feet, staring at him. The boy didn't even flinch. "You ok Arthur?" He turns his head over his shoulder, looking so tired and young and fragile, blue eyes dulled with pain, magic gone from their golden gaze. Knives buried in his chest. "Ar..thur... I..." He slurs, wavering on his feet, eye un-focusing. Then they roll up in his head, and he crumples to the ground in a tangle of limbs and awkward angles.

Arthur swears explosively, dropping to his knees by the boy's side, shaking hands hovering above his chest, unsure of what to do. He looks up, searching for Gaius, desperation and despair in his gaze; he can't seem to find his voice to shout for help. Merlin's laying here gravely injured, and Arthur doesn't know what to do, his brain feels all fuzzy, _this can't be happening_, he can't do anything.

He's useless.

"Gaius! Gaius, help!" That's Gwaine shouting; panicked and urgent as he finally reaches Arthur's side. Arthur's tailbone is smarting for the earlier fall, his head pounding, as Gwaine crashes to his knees beside him and gently takes action, propping the boy's head up so he can breathe easier, taking awful raspy little gasping breaths, like drowning man who can't get enough air. Lancelot and Morgana are suddenly there on his other side, smoothing his hair, and clutching at his hands, and whispering sweet nothings to the boy. Arthur feels a bit dizzy all of a sudden, his breathing not quite working right.

"You'll be ok." Morgana smiles wobbly through her tears, voice shaking, like she's trying to convince herself more than Merlin.

Merlin with two goddam knives sticking horribly out of that skinny chest. Ribs protruding like a birdcage against the plain fabric of his tunic, heartbeat fluttering weakly beyond their confines. Arthur feels really dizzy, a bit sick. Red. Merlin's tunic is red. The original colour now indistinguishable. People are screaming. Arthur feels really deeply stomach sick. His breathing falters.

There's so much blood.

He can't breathe.

He sways on his knees. He thinks he's going to be sick.

"G...Gwaine..." Arthur manages to stammer out, as his vision crackles and fades to black from the edges in. His ears buzz with white noise. He can't feel his body. He wonders if he's falling. He's going to be sick. Arthur's sure he is. Everything's gone black. He can't feel his legs, where he is, what he's doing. The noise of the crowd a low buzz in his ears.

"Whoa! Arthur!" He hears Gwaine's voice as he sways disorientated, face white as a sheet. Arms are on his shoulder and Arthur tries to work out why he's on the floor and when he got there as his vision fades back in. "Whoa!" Gwaine's worried face swims in his vision. "You good?" Arthur slurs out something, seemingly incapable of speech and Gwaine frowns. "Stay laying down Arthur." And the young prince vaguely registers his flailing limbs are trying to push himself up. He tells them to stop it, and he must have said it out loud because Gwaine chuckles sadly, a hand firmly on his shoulder.

"What...?" he formulates, a feeling of total exhaustion washing over him.

"You fainted Princess." He tease is colder than usual, like he's trying to joke and can't quite find the energy, the humour, which is weird, because Gwaine always has the energy to joke. "Can't handle a bit of blood? It's not like you haven't seen it before." He gives a laugh, but it's tired and empty. Because it's not funny at all.

_Because it's Merlin's blood. _Arthur feels like screaming. _Little, fragile, innocent Merlin who's kind and wonderful, and extraordinary. Who should never have to bleed._

Arthur still feels sick; the feeling's not getting any better and he really doesn't want to throw up in front of all these people though. He tries to force the feeling down, to pull himself together. His hands are shaking.

He rubs a hand over his eyes. The dizziness is slowly subsiding. His limbs are tingling, like pins and needles.

"How is he?" He asks, only to be shushed by Gaius. _When did he get here?_

Arthur pulls himself up unsteadily onto his elbows, relieved to find the world's stopped spinning.

_Pull yourself together Arthur._ He thinks to himself with a frown. But then his eyes focus in on Merlin. The boy's chalk white, swathed in bloodied bandages, medicine being coxed down his lax throat by skilled hands. His long dark eyelashes cast soft dark shadows on pale cheeks. The lack of colour in his face was frightening. Like a corpse. Arthur's sick feeling renews itself.

Arthur looks around, the knights have been organised to usher everyone out of the room and back to their jobs. Eldric is unconscious, clapped in chains, disarmed and under heavy guard. His father is sitting up in his throne, pale and bandaged, disorientated, but not too badly off, Elyan and Leon either side of him, and Morgana fussing by his side. Gaius must have sent her over there, Arthur supposes, she looks tired and worried, glancing continuously at Merlin's prone form in the middle of the hall. Gwen's there too, keeping a steady eye on his father over Morgana's shoulder, as Gaius must have instructed her too. Uther seems a little groggy, but none for the worse really.

Both Lancelot and Gwaine have matching worried expressions, Gwaine leaning over Arthur and Lancelot hovering anxiously by Merlin, peering over Gaius' shoulder as he works and repeatedly asking things like;

"Is he alright?" and; "Is he going to be ok?" or Gaius' personal favourite; "Does it matter that he was drinking with us last night?" to which Gwaine chipped in;

"Only half a pint!" in the most disgusted voice possible. "I mean, who else but Merlin would only drink half a pint when out with us lads!?" To which Gaius got fed up of repeating himself over ridiculous questions and being distracted, so shooed him off to hover over Arthur, who was just managing to sit up.

Merlin's bone white, veins clear and thin and so very blue and just under his almost translucently pale skin. _Like a ghost._ Arthur thinks. _Like a skeleton. _The veins pulse weakly as they struggle valiantly to keep pumping blood around Merlin's body. To keep him alive. The knives lay discarded and blood covered a few meters away on the cold stone of the great hall. Stones now stained with terrible red.

Arthur's world spins again, and he had to take several deep breaths to steady it.

Then he spots the girl. Elena, being hugged closely by her family. Her mother in tears, holding her child, her baby so tightly in her arms like she'll never let go. Her father repeatedly kissing the top of her little blond head, tears in his eyes, repeating her name over and over. Elena is pale, trembling, eyes fixed on Merlin over her mother's shoulder.

And this is what gives Arthur the courage of find his feet again, taking small, stumbling steps towards the small family.

"Elena?" He kneels down to her height and her parent's drawback, biting their lips and looking like they're considering bowing lowly before him over and over and thanking him until they're both blue in the faces. But it wasn't him who saved their little girl. It was Merlin.

"Sire." She offers a little, unsteady curtsy to him, looking up at him with big, blue eyes, and he smiles, resting one hand gently on the top of her head.

"He'll be ok." He ruffles her hair softly and she nods with a weak smile, and Arthur knows he was right, the girl had been worrying about the idiot. Hopefully he's put her mind at rest now.

"Thankyou." She smiles, scrubbing a hand across her eyes. "You and Merlin. Thankyou."

"That sorcerer!" her father scoffs, "Don't be ridiculous Elena!"

"He saved my life!" She whirls on him, angrily. "He's a good man! I..."

A look of fury crosses her father's kindly face, and he seizes her upper arm tightly enough to bruise, trying to shake some sense into the foolish girl. She squeals fearfully, eyes wide, expression suddenly terrified.

"Don't you _ever_ speak like that again! You'll get killed! You stupid, foolish child! Do you want to die!? Defending a disgusting sorcerer! Elena?! Do you!?" the poor girl looks terrified, shaking like a leaf in the breeze, frightened blue eyes tear filled and panicked and so like Merlin's. And maybe it's that that wrenches at Arthur's heart. "I'm ever so sorry Sire," The man turns the honey and sweetness on as he assesses one furious crown prince, furious for reasons the complete opposite to what he believes. "She's just addled from her experience, she didn't mean a..."

In a flash the Prince's sword is drawn and at his chest. The man is silenced instantly, staring down at the deadly blade, his hand unclamping from around the child's arm, now showing signs of purple bruising. His mouth is open in a empty O shape of surprise, eyes wide.

"Don't you ever. _Ever._ Talk about Merlin that way." Arthur hisses, his voice full of venom. "Elena," He turns back to the small girl and gently addresses her. "Thank you for being so brave." He smiles. "I wasn't really much help to you, but I, and Merlin, would be both honoured to protect you at any time. For any person in the whole of Camelot."

"He's a good warlock, isn't he?" She asks, voice small and timid, sending frightened glances at the king and her father, knowing her words were as treasonous as his own. She smiles when Arthur nods. Merlin would be proud of her, calling him a good warlock without fear or hesitation. His smile would be so wonderful.

"He's a good person." He agrees. "Not an ounce of evil or darkness in him. Never has been, never will be. His only goal today was to protect us, the skinny idiot." The fondness is unmistakable in his voice.

"He's a good boy." Annie says softly, and Arthur's head jerks up to find a crowd of people has formed behind the small family he was addressing, and Arthur can see in their eyes and faces they all agree with the woman's simple words. They all seemed... ashamed of their earlier words. "John?" She prompts her husband, and the big man hangs his head regretfully.

"He is... I... He gave us bread once, remember? That bitterly cold winter last year? The week there was a shortage of food? Fresh out the palace kitchen it was. Still warm in his hands and looking like it'd come right off the Prince's plate." _Which knowing Merlin_, Arthur thinks, _it probably had. _He smiles sadly. _That idiot_. "He's a good lad. I was wrong, I was just trying to... I... I apologise. To you sire. To Merlin. And... To you, Elena." He kneels by his daughter. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok Daddy." She smiles and hugs him tightly; fear forgotten in the way only a child can forget "I know you were only trying to protect me."

There are murmurs from the crowd that's formed around them, stories of Merlin being exchanged and told. Laughter and warmth breaking out at his ridiculously noble and silly actions.

"That poor boy, I always try to slip him a bit extra when he collect's the Prince's meals. Figured the skinny lad need fattening up a bit."

"He's a good kid, polishes my armour if he has time after the Prince's."

"He patched up my knee when I fell and scraped it up on the way back to the stables once."

"He shared his food with me."

"He leant me a good book on herbs."

"He helped my wife give birth."

"He mended my boots."

"He rescued my dog from a well!"

"He helped me carry laundry."

"He leant me his socks!"

"He's so kind."

"So good."

"Such a nice boy."

Soon the whole crowd are buzzing and exchanging sweet stories of the boy that Arthur had no idea were happening. Especially the ones that involved the boy staying up all night on multiple occasions to help with patients. Or giving up all his food to someone who needed it more, and going hungry. Or selflessly risking him for others. _Climbing down a well after a dog, Merlin? Really? The idiot could have fallen to his death! Drowned! All for a dog!_

Then his Father's cold voice breaks through the warm, fond atmosphere like a knife through flesh.

"People of Camelot..."

**A/N: Dun Dun Duuunnnn! What's Uther gonna say? Will Arthur be able to protect Merlin? Will Merlin survive being stabbed? Can Gaius save him? Will I ever manage to get out of bed and go have some breakfast? (Nurrrk... last one is not likely) XD**

**At least the crowd appear to be on his side...**

**Thanks for reading! Drop me a review in that nice little box down there if you liked it, I love hearing all your thoughts on the story! You guy's are great! :D**

**Thanks again,**

**Lenle G.**


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter Forty Six

"People of Camelot." Uther's voice is slightly raspy, eyes narrowed down at the young man on the floor, where Gaius is frantically treating him, old hands reddened with blood. The knight... Sir Gwaine was it? Is helping Gaius roll the sorcerer onto his side and slide a make-shift stretcher under him. It's been constructed from the belts of knights and peasants alike, lashed onto two of the guard's spears to form a mesh. Ruby red is soaking slowly through the boy's bandages, a stark contrast against the whiteness of his skin. Uther takes a deep breath. There's a sorcerer in his court. A magic user. He feels physically ill at the thought. "That man..." he begins, his voice sticking in his throat, "is banished from our lands." He points officiously at Merlin and Arthur looses the ability to breathe, rocketing to his feet, system flooded with fear.

"Father!" The prince cries in outrage.

"He is a traitor, and in penitence for his breaking the law with his return, I command that..."

"That man is a good, honourable, and loyal man!" Arthur's voice breaks the furious King off mid-speech. The Prince's eyes wide and desperate. Voice shaking. His father is furious; Arthur can see it in his dark, livid eyes. His head might roll for this. But Arthur finds he suddenly doesn't care. Merlin is more important. "He is my best friend, Father, and I..."

"He is a foul sorcerer!" Two angry red splotches darken high up on Uther's cheeks. He pulls himself into a standing position, looming over the crowd. "You're under a spell! He is fooling you all!" The king all but shots, eyes narrowed furiously at his son.

"He is _dying_! Father! _Dying_!" Arthur roars, choking on his tears, heart pierced by pain and anguish. Because Merlin really could be dying. Right now. Because of him. "He's got no strength to cast a spell over me or anyone!"

"Arthur, just listen to me!" Uther's face is nearing purple in his fury.

"No! Father! _You_ listen to _me_!" Arthur all but screams right back at him; his heart feeling like it has been rent in two. His voice choking up on the tears gathering in his throat as a pained sob.

"Arthur..." The King's voice is low with warning.

"SHUT UP!" The Prince howls, face buried in his hands, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Just Shut. Up!" Arthur's breathing is quick and harsh in the quiet that follows. Uther looks frankly shocked. Very pale save for the anger high and blotchy red on his cheeks. But Arthur can't bring himself to care. "Merlin... Merlin is my best friend." He looks up, defiant and proud. Because he can say that out loud, in front of his father. He can. "Everyone here knows he is a good person, and he's badly injured. Father..."

"Are you trying to start an uprising?" Uther hisses, eyes narrowed and dark with fury.

"I don't care!" Arthur screams agonisingly, his voice breaking, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I don't bloody care!" Because Merlin's more important. And he needs help. Now.

"Don't care!?" Uther hollers right back at him "After all I've done for you! You ungrateful...! Sorcery is evil! Foul! Disgusting! You _will_ learn, Arthur! A stay in the dungeons overnight will set your mind right again! Guards! Seize him!"

Silence. Not one person moves. They all glare back at Uther defiantly.

All colour drains from the King's face.

"See what you've done!" Uther hisses takes in the scene before him. "You've turned my people against me! You've... you... this is an uprising! Isn't it! You planned this Arthur! You...!"

"I did not such thing!" Arthur sobs out through gritted teeth, the pain raw and fresh in his voice. "I would never! I... I love you father!" There's a long, agonising pause in which Uther just stares at him, this small sobbing boy, the hurt so clear in is posture, his face, those blue, blue eyes. Her eyes.

"Arthur... I... Then why?" Uther finally formulates, voice small and broken and filled with a desperation to just understand. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because..." Arthur takes a deep breath. "You need to realise... that not all magic is... I don't know... dark and evil and twisted." He chokes out "Magic can be good, so good! If used properly, if used how Merlin uses his! Only for good!"

"That boy!" Uther rises furiously to his feet, knuckles white in clenched fists. "He's poisoned your mind..."

"He saved my life! Father!" Arthur cries out "He used his magic to save my life! And willingly risked himself for me! He could have died!" _He still might_. Arthur thinks as he looks down and across at the pale figure on the make-shift stretcher in the middle of the room. The red is seeping through the bandages at an increasingly alarming rate. _He needs to get out of here quickly. To be treated properly._

"Sorcery is an evil horrible dark thing! It only taints and destroys!" Uther snarls.

"Magic is not evil!" Arthur all but screams in frustration. "Why!? Why do you hate it so much! What could possibly have made you hate magic this much!"

"It killed your mother!"

A deathly silence falls in the big room.

Echoing emptily off the stone walls.

His son stares at him for what feels like an eternity, then;

"Mother?" Comes Arthur's small broken voice eventually, like he can't quite understand what was just said. "I thought... I thought... that mother died in... childbirth... You know... Naturally. I thought..." Uther's silent, face wrenched with grief and sadness and pain. Arthur's voice is so small, so tiny, so broken... so desperate... "How did mother die? Father?" His hands are shaking, his face pale as Merlin's. "How did my mother die?" Tears well up anew in his eyes.

Eyes just like hers.

"Ygraine..." Uther swallows hard, rubbing a hand over his face "She... I... there was a witch." Uther hisses eventually, trying to pull himself together. "She... she deceived us! Ygraine couldn't have children! And Nimueh told us she could give us a child! But..." Uther's voice is so pain filled, so hurt, that Arthur feels like only running to him, and enfolding the small, sorrowful man in his arms. "She died! The magic killed her!" He sobs out.

Arthur has never seen his father cry, and the sheer raw pain in the man's voice and the hot, agonizing tears on his cheeks are like a knife plunging into Arthur's own chest.

_A witch killed mother? _Arthur brain struggles to comprehend it. _Magic killed her?_

_Magic like Merlin's?_

Then Gaius, alone, steps forwards. Small and bent over with age. Voice steady and strong and sad. "Nimueh knew that by using magic to create a life, another life had to be taken in exchange, Sire... _Arthur_... she... she didn't know Ygraine's life would be the price... She didn't wish for it to be... Nimueh always intended to use her own life as payment... She was so good, and wanted you to live, so much... Nimueh and Ygraine... they both loved magic very much, Arthur. Your mother... She thought it wonderful, pure. She was such good friends with Nimueh, Ygraine was... I still remember her beautiful smile when Nimueh told her of a way to have you, Arthur. She... she was so happy... She loved you very much." He pauses, turning back to the King, eyes soft and sad and so very old. "Sire, Merlin is like I once was. I had never once used what I had learnt for evil. I never will. He is the kind of magic user your wife believed in. The kind she loved. She would have been disappointed in the way you turned on Nimueh, and she on you."

Arthur's heart feels like its being torn in two, impaled and overwhelmed by the sheer sadness and grief he feels. His father is sobbing now, rawly and openly. And Arthur feels... like... he pity's him.

He pity's his Father, and the pain magic has wrought him.

_He must have loved her very much._

Like he loves Merlin, his best friend, very much. Because right now, in that moment, there is no-one more important than Merlin. Poor, small, sweet Merlin, who's lying on the woven stretcher, put together with the hands and belts of all those who love him, bleeding his lifeblood onto the cold flagstones. Merlin needs proper medical care, and quickly, it's plain to see. Arthur knows it's up to him. He has to do something to convince his father. And now.

"Father." Arthur addresses the king, his voice only cracking slightly. "A wise... and wonderful woman... once told me that... magic," he tries to explain, taking a deep breath and swallowing hard, "is just like any other weapon..."

Arthur remembers Hunith sighing as she had spoken these words, he recalls the feeling of her hand as it fell lightly on his shoulder, and is suddenly comforted.

He can do this.

Arthur raises his head up, given strength by the memory and speaks clearly and strongly out to his Father the people of Camelot. He has to get this message across.

He won't mess up.

He won't let Merlin down.

_He can't._

"Magic is like a sword." Arthur smiles as he realises he's using her analogy, the one that made him realise, truly, that how magic is used is dependent on its user. "It can be used for evil, but, it can also be used for good. It is greatly powerful, yes, and if misused, terribly dangerous. But I and every person in this room can vouch that Merlin is a good person, a wonderful person, Your Majesty, and he wields magic for what is good and righteous. Like you, me, and every knight here, wield our swords for what is good, and righteous. Merlin has only ever used it only to save my life. Like he did just now. Merlin is a good man, father. Neither I, nor anyone here, will stand to see a good man die."

Then, Arthur walks over to stand in front of Merlin, and sits down, cross legged, stern face, staring straight ahead. Determined.

Absolute dead silence.

Arthur can count his heart beats in it.

No-one dares so much as breathe.

Arthur closes his eyes, his Father's going to kill him for this act of treason he's sure.

He's sitting completely alone in the huge room.

No-one's with him.

He feels slightly sick.

Merlin's going to die... and it's all Arthur's fault.

He can't save him...

He squeezes his eyes tightly closed and tries not to cry.

He needs to look strong.

Then footsteps, light and quick, stepping gracefully down from Uther's side and across the hall towards where Arthur sits, break the silence.

Arthur's eyelids fly open.

_Morgana!_

She gracefully sits next to him, legs daintily to one side, hands in her lap, the look of determination on her face makes Arthur's gaping, disbelieving one look ridiculous.

_What is she doing?_

Another silent pause, then... more footsteps. Gwen has followed Morgana down from the raised plinth where Uther sits and she settles at her lady's side with a smile.

Arthur gapes at them with disbelief.

His heart feels lifted slightly. They're with him. They're here for Merlin. They'll help him protect his warlock.

A hand touches the back of his shoulder, and Gaius uses it to guide himself down onto the floor next to Arthur.

Then the girl, Elena, just behind them sits down.

Then Gwaine and Leon and Lancelot. Percival and Elyan.

Then the rest of the Knights.

Then Elena's family. Then Mags the cook, and Greg the stableboy, and Toby the shoeshiner.

Arthur's heart soars, because now the boy with the dog is sitting, and the guy with the knee, and the one Merlin shared food with. Then another man, another woman, another man. All of them, one after another, after another. The guards at the door. The servants. The nobles.

All settling down and sitting, defiantly behind their prince.

In front of Merlin.

They were all there to protect him.

All of them, every person in the room sitting securely down in a great arc around the injured boy, saving him from Uther's wrath.

Defending Merlin.

Not one person here willing to let the boy come to harm.

Warmth blossoms in Arthur's chest.

Each person in this room has done this to protect the silly, skinny warlock. But it's more than than, Arthur realises, it's a mark of respect, honour, admiration...

A mark of love.

**A/N: Loooonnnggg... my brain is melting... this chapter turned out sooo loonnggg... (over 2,000 words in one chapter for me with my usual quite quick update is a little miracle) XP**

**I now feel a bit like Dumbledore though... All mushy and 'love is the most powerful force etc etc' kinda thing... XD  
**

**Thanks for reading! Really hope you liked this chapter! If you did, write me a review? They're much appreciated! :D**

**Thanks again,**

**Lenle G.**


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter Forty Seven

Unbeknown to Arthur, all the time they're sitting, Gaius has one hand held behind him, clasping Merlin's wrist. Feeling his weakening pulse. It's unsteady and throbbing feebly under his wrinkled fingers, faint as the flutter of the wings of a butterfly. Gaius' own heart pounds in his ears, making him feel slightly sick.

He knows Merlin's going to die if he can't get him to his physician's chambers where he can treat the boy _properly_ for his stab wounds.

And Gaius refuses to let Merlin die.

Not now.

Not after everything.

He looks up at Uther; the expression on the king's face is one of total shock and disbelief. Every person here has stood (well, sat) against him, protected this boy. This warlock. Including his own son. Gaius can see the realisation of what has happened slowly registering in Uther's eyes. His anger seems to deflate out of him like a balloon, in a huge whoosh, with the realisation that this is a perfect demonstration of how incredibly well Arthur can lead his people. He's a force of good, and he's well loved, well respected. His people will follow him anywhere. _He'll make a great king._ Gaius thinks, and he can see the same thought reflected in Uther's eyes.

_He'll make a great king._

_Ygraine would be proud of him. Her little Arthur. _

_For his defiance of something he believes in... Maybe not all magic is... bad... maybe... Ygraine was right after all... _

_She'd be so proud._

Arthur nearly faints when Uther smiles.

_Why's he smiling?_ Arthur feels a rush of fear. _Has he gone crazy?_ Arthur stares wide eyed at Uther, still on his feet, as he begins to walk towards him, slightly unsteady on the stairs, one hand pressed to his small wound.

He stops before Arthur, who looks up at him determined. _This is it._ Arthur thinks. _He's going whip out his sword and chop my head off for my defiance. _Arthur feels sick. Uther raises a hand, shakily into the air in front of him. _This is it. He's going to kill me. Execute me. Right here, in front of all these people. I'm going to die._ Arthur squeezes his eyes tightly shut. He can feel the hand moving towards him in the air. _My own father's going to kill me. _Closer and closer. Until...

Long fingers bury themselves in his soft blond hair and ruffle Arthur's locks.

Arthur snaps opens his eyes with a look of surprise, looking up to see Uther with a fond, sad smile on his face.

"Your mother would be proud of you." He all but whispers.

Arthur stares at him, Uther's hand still buried in his hair, a look of shock on the young prince's features. The other of Uther's hands reaches up to touch the crown on his head. _Maybe he's ready to be king. He's certainly proven he can lead our people. Is he ready?_ Uther wonders. _Maybe it's time I stepped down._

"Father..."

_But what about the boy? The sorcerer boy?_ Uther feels slightly sick, but he knows what he has to do. _Arthur would be furious if he doesn't do this. He could turn all his people against him forever. And... Ygraine would have been disappointed in him._ He thinks.

_He's disappointed her enough._

"If your friend lives..." Uther takes a deep breath; already regretting his own decision, but knowing it's one he has to make. "I hereby, royally swear, as King of Camelot, in front of all these witnesses... that... his... the boy Merlin's... ban from the kingdom of Camelot is... revoked." He ignores Arthur's stifled gasp and the sudden outbreak of murmurings in the room. "He is, however, entirely your responsibility. Arthur... I... Enough blood has been spilt today. Do you not think?"

Arthur's heart soars; he rockets to his feet, throwing his arms around his father. His breathing stutters through unsteady sobs of joy. _Merlin can stay!_

"Thanks Dad!" He grins, eyes big and blue, looking every inch the little boy Uther used to so fondly watch running round the halls of the castle. _Not all grown up yet then. Not quite ready to be King. But well on his way. _Uther can't resist cupping the back of the boy's head and holding him close for a moment.

"You'll make a great King, Arthur." Uther whispers into the boy's ear, with a smile. "I'm... I am... proud of you too. You've shown me... that my choices... aren't always the right ones... I... I should listen to you more often... hopefully, now, your mother can be proud of me..." He briefly brushes a small kiss on the top of Arthur's blond head. Then he lets go, unwinding his arms, and patting his son on the shoulder. "You are all dismissed!" He calls out, trying not to let the strain show in his voice, trying to be commanding and authorative.

There's a sudden flurry of activity. People all trying to help. Leaping up from where they sat and crowding around him, around Merlin.

"Give us space!" Gaius shouts out, and the people back off. Huddling and murmuring on the sidelines with worried expressions and drawn eyebrows. "Lancelot, Gwaine!" He calls urgently, and they each grab an end of the stretcher, careful not to jostle the boy too much.

Arthur knows it's bad. Everyone in the room does. It's obvious to see.

Red has seeped through the bandages, strong and dark and sickly. His skin is so pale, like the thinnest, whitest, most fragile of parchments. The bones in his wrist show through the skin, white and pale and limp in Gaius' wrinkled hand.

The rise are fall of the boy's chest is stuttering and so soft that it's barely noticeable, the boy's ribs are far too visible, his skin stretched across it like a drum and swathed in bandages and blood. His heart flutters in the cage of his ribs like a weak tiny songbird, terrifyingly wavering in its beats. Arthur prays to every celestial being he knows of for the next beat to come, solid and sound. He's rewarded only by tiny flutters.

_But at least they're there._ Arthur reminds himself. _He's still alive._

Gwaine and Lancelot pick up an end of the stretcher each with solemn, desperate expressions, and Arthur's ears are buzzing and he can't hear what Gaius is urgently telling them. And then they're taking him away, taking Merlin away from him.

He wants to scream out stop! No! You can't take him away! But he knows in his heart Gaius needs to get him out of here.

They're almost at the door when Arthur makes up his mind to follow.

Because he can't bear to leave his side.

His feet are moving across the floor of the hall towards him without a second thought. People are kindly holding the doors open for them. All wishing him well in quiet murmurs. Arthur's feet are flying over the flagstones, he's so close and...

"Arthur!" His father's voice calls out, and Arthur nearly trips over his feet, spinning back round with a pleading look. He needs to go with Merlin. He has to. What if something happens to him while he's gone? What if...? "You will remain here."

"But Father, I...!" People were filing out after Merlin now. Arthur can't see him in the crowd, but he's got to be heading to Gaius' chambers, his old room, for treatment. Arthur needs to be by his side.

"Arthur." Comes Uther's warning tone, and Arthur realises he's pushed enough today.

Hopefully whatever Uther has to say will be short.

Merlin needs him.

**A.N: Soooo sleeeppppyyyy XP**

**Still, hope you like this chapter! Review if you did! :D**

**Nearly at the end now! :(**

**Maybe I'll write a sequel or something... anyone interested in reading more after this story? I do have a idea... :)**

**Anyway! Thanks for reading! :D**

**Lenle G.**


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter Forty Eight

Arthur can't seem to keep still. His feet are moving of their own accord, making him pace up and down, up and down, over and over in front of the throne where his father sits, straight-backed and frowning and silent.

Like he doesn't quite know what to say.

Arthur bites at his lip and wrings his hands together, and can't quite seem to remember how to breathe right anymore.

"The boy..." Uther begins, and Arthur nearly jumps out of his skin, so preoccupied with his thoughts, his worry, that he'd forgotten his father was there. The King pointedly clears his throat. "The boy," He begins again. "As I mentioned, is, of course, your responsibility, Arthur..." The prince nods distractedly at this. "Arthur... I... You are responsible for his every action... if... If I hear, anything... _bad_ has happened... if I hear he's harmed just one single citizen of Camelot, he... he will receive punishment... And he shall be completely banned for practising all magic..." Arthur stares at him blankly... _what?_ "And... precautions... will be taken to ensure he can't." Uther scowls. "And you'll be in the stocks... Do I make myself clear? Arthur?"

_What?_

"Crystal." Comes Arthur's taut, impatient reply. "Crystal clear." _Wait..._ _He's not banning Merlin from using magic? He's not going to kill him instantly if his eyes so much as flicker gold? If sorcery is even suspected? He's going to... leave it to my judgment?_ "Father?" Arthur needs to ask, needs to check, because he must have heard wrong, he must have... "I... you're not... banning him? From using magic?" Arthur can barely comprehend what he's hearing. His head is spinning. Is he dreaming? Is this all a dream? He resists the urge to pinch himself, as that'd obviously look ridiculous, and crown Prince's don't go around pinching themselves willy nilly...

Uther's eyebrows meet in a dark furrow.

"That's your decision, Arthur, he's your responsibility. I... personally... feel it would be better to take _preventative _measures. But I am going to... trust... your judgement for now." And that's his final word on the matter.

'He's your responsibility.'

_And he's gravely injured..._

When Arthur's dismissed moments later he can't seem to get to Gaius' chambers fast enough.

When he does, finally get there, after what feels like a eternity, he gets snapped at to "Get out of the way for goodness sake Arthur!" as Gaius and Gwen and another kitchen maid, who's name Arthur doesn't know, bustle around, fetching things and washing blood from their hands and checking the pulse in a thin, frail wrist.

The stab wounds look like they've been stitched up, quickly and neatly, undoubtedly by Gaius' skilful hands, and the old man is just pressing a cloth pad to each wound, his face pale and stretched with worry, as Gwen and the other girl support him in a sitting position and Gaius winds a roll of clean, new bandage round his chest, holding the pads in place and hopefully preventing the wounds from bleeding. The old bandages lay discarded and blood soaked in a little pile on the cobblestone floor.

Arthur, feeling slightly sick, retreats to a chair in the corner of the room, he needs to be close to Merlin, has to be, but he doesn't want to get in the way. Doesn't want to put him in more danger.

Merlin who's so pale and venerable and seems so still, too still to be natural, as Gaius fusses and clucks about securing his bandages like a worried mother hen, and pours concoctions of who-knows-what into the lack throat, skilful hands carefully massaging the bruised muscles to encourage him to swallow. And Merlin's just laying there, still and white and limp, chest rising and falling unevenly with each ragged breath the boy takes.

Merlin's never that still. He's always running about. Doing this and that. Helping here and there. Always busy. Always bubbly. Full of energy. Always grinning, laughing, smiling.

Always Merlin.

This... seeing him so still and limp and pale... feels... so wrong...

There's a deep, dark ache in Arthur's chest.

The new bandages are clean and crisp, tightly tucked around Merlin's chest. And Gaius sighs, his head in his hands, looking down at his feet. He notices the old bandages lying discarded on the floor, and jerks upright with them in his fist, a look of such anger and frustration, of bone-deep sadness and fear crosses the old man's face, as he leaps to his feet, and throws them right into the fire that's burning brightly in the hearth.

They're ablaze in seconds and Arthur stares at them as they shrivel and curl up, as if shrinking away from the heat in fear. The bloodstains are dark against the bright flames, being slowly burnt away and reduced to deep grey ash. Arthur finds the action odd, his brows crinkling in a frown, as Gaius usually gets bandages washed thoroughly and re-uses them, but then he realises that, perhaps, the old man couldn't stand to look at them, at Merlin's blood on them, a moment more.

They've set up the camp bed for him to lay on again, in the same place at it'd been when Merlin was suffering from the injuries of the unsuccessful hanging he'd gone through, and Arthur's mind was flooded with memories of then, how he'd seen him, so still and small and hurt. And how horrifically similar he looked now. In fact, it was also just like that time Merlin had drank the poison from that goblet for him too.

Arthur feels sick.

Gwen's gently placing a damp cloth of warm water on Merlin's brow, in an attempt to bring up his scarily low body temperature, to encourage the blood flow in his body, and Gaius covers him with a heavy, warm blanket. The boy still looks waxen and pale, slack jawed and horribly weak, his dark hair plastered across his forehead by water from the cloth. His body is wracked by small, feeble tremors, as if he's terribly cold, but has hardly the energy or strength to shiver. His skin retains the almost transparent feel, thin blue veins of lifeblood throbbing just under its surface.

Gwen and the maid hurry off to carry more water in, for drinking or sterilisation or some concoction of the old physician's Arthur doesn't know. Gaius sighs loudly and sinks onto the wooden bench at his table, near to Merlin's side.

He interlaces one frail wrinkled hand into the boy's dark, soft locks and sighs again.

"Oh Merlin..."

"How is he?" Arthur finally finds his voice, and surprises himself with how dry and cracked and hoarse it sounds. Gaius sighs again, heavily and sadly.

"I don't know Arthur... I just don't know... I've done all I can for now... I... only time will tell..."

And Arthur can't even formulate a reply to that, he just scoots closer to the boy, and takes up a limp hand, silently willing him to get better.

_Please Merlin. Please get better._

_I need you._

**A/N: Ended up editing this chapter anyway, so I'm re-posting it :)  
**

**So this is version 2 of this chapter. XD  
**

**Haven't been able to upload new chapters lately, as we're very near our download limit for our internet at home. Sorry! However, I'm off to Uni (Loughborough) on Tuesday! So I will have internet to give you a proper new update then! XD  
**

**Thanks for reading, really hope you like this re-master of the chapter! :D  
**

**Lenle G.  
**


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter Forty Nine

Pain.

Pain is the first thing he registers.

Hard and lancing and deep in his chest. Hot and burning and he can't move. Can't move because it hurts! It's hurts so much! Breathing is like fire! It hurts! And...

Then he registers the arms; gentle and strong around him. Full of strength and sinew and muscle. Powerful arms. Battle hardened and sturdy. Tough. Safe. Holding him carefully, gently, like he might just break like fine porcelain at any second. Like he's something fragile. Precious. The arms are trembling ever so slightly, and the bare flesh feels cooling and comforting against his own too hot skin. Merlin feels like he's on fire, like flames are raging just under his skin, which is slick, flushed and painful with sweat. He feels nauseous and limp and oh so tired.

Then he realises he's resting against the hardness of a chest, muscled and well defined under the soft woven material of a tunic, and Merlin resister's he's being cradled against someone's chest, his head tucked limply under their chin, a hand in his hair.

"Merlin?" Comes a voice; he's unsure whose, from right above him - the person holding him, he assumes. He tries to formulate some response, but only just manages to open his mouth to moan weakly, the sound low and feeble in his chest. His eyelids feel too heavy to open, the darkness of unconsciousness lingering at the edges of his awareness. His head lols slightly to one side, where it rests back against a sturdy shoulder. The pain great and terrible in his chest. _What had happened? _His mind feels foggy, uncertain.

Footsteps hurry across the floor, echoing like they do in Gaius' chambers and his own. Merlin wonders if that's where he is. Probably he concludes. He's probably in the physicians rooms. He can't quite remember why he'd be there though. _Why does he hurt so much?_

"Is he awake?" He recognises that voice. It's Gaius. It sounds strained and tired and so, so worried. _Why's he worried?_ Panic floods Merlin's system, making his heart lurch wildly in his chest. Merlin tries his hardest to open his eyes, struggles to, he needs to; his mentor is worried about something?_ Has there been an attack? A Magical attack? _His breathing stutters and speeds up. His torso hurts so much. So much pain._ Does Arthur need him? Could he be hurt? Is that why Gaius is worried?! Arthur! Arthur! Arth..._

His suddenly becomes hyperaware of exactly who he's leaning on.

"I don't know..."Comes the rich voice of the crown prince. Merlin wonders why he didn't recognise it sooner. Perhaps because he sounds so strangely... worried? Panic seizes Merlin once again. Making his breathing stutter and his body tense. He almost screams aloud at the sharp, horrible pain that suddenly lances through his chest at the movement. Something must be really wrong if Arthur's worried. He can hear the panic in his voice: "Merlin? Merlin can you hear me?" The arms around him shake his shoulder lightly, then implores: "Gaius?" the pleading and pity in his voice almost hurts.

Old, weathered hands reach out to touch his face, their touch calming and gentle. One settles on his forehead.

"Merlin my boy?" Merlin can't find the strength to reply, only to moan lowly. "His fever is still quite high." The old man sighs.

"Dammit..." chokes out Arthur's voice. "Dammit Merlin..." The arms tighten around him. A warm, suspiciously damp face buries itself in his shoulder, soft hair tickling the side of his neck, the puff of his breath soft and comforting against his fevered skin.

And it's only now Merlin begins to realise that whatever's happened, must have happened to him. Because Gaius, hell, even Arthur's worried about him! _But what's happened?_ His chest and torso feel like they're burning... _What on Earth happened?_ Another jolt of pain flits through him. _Gods, it feels like he's been bloody stabbed or something... wait..._

_Stabbed?_

_Stabbed...?_

_Oh gods..._

And then it all comes rushing back.

_Eldric._

Eldric threw knives at him! Well... Arthur...

_Arthur!_

Merlin's eyes jolt open, his body lurching forward with a howl of pain, so suddenly that Gaius jerks backwards with a soft cry of surprise.

"Merlin!"

He can't breathe. Everything is pain. The arms around him are tight and secure and are the only thing keeping him from passing out. Because he's stubborn. Because he won't. He won't. Not until he knows Arthurs all right. And it feels like he's being run though. And he squeezes his eyes shut again. And he can't breathe. And black spots are dancing in his vision. But he won't pass out. He won't. And...

"Shhh, Merlin. Shhhh." Arthur's leaning him back, flush against his chest, and helping him take great, gasping breaths of air. Tears stream down the young warlocks cheeks. Because it just hurts. It hurts so much. And... "It's ok, Merlin, your fine... Shhh." Arthur murmurs in his ear. _And when did he become so comforting anyway?_

"Ar'hur" Merlin chokes out between pained wheezes, fingers scrabbling weakly at his arm in panic. "Arth..ur..."

"I'm here, Merlin. Shhh. It's ok Merlin. Your fine..."

"Arth...ur!" Merlin can feel Gaius' hands on his throat pressing a vial to his lips, but "No!" he has to know. Has to know if Arthur's alright. "No!" He jerks his head away, his abused neck screaming at the action. He chokes on the air he's breathing. Heart pounding in his chest. Blood rushing in his ears.

"Merlin! Calm down! Merlin!" Arthur's arms are tight and secure around him, they're trying to gently rock him, like one would do a panicked child. Maybe this is what Arthur's old nursemaid had done when the prince was small and upset. The arms are clumsy and jittering, like they a little panicked themselves and don't quite know what they're doing.

"Eld..ric! A'hur!" Merlin manages to choke out in his fear. "...'dric'"

"He's gone. In the dungeons. He's not going to hurt you again. It's fine Merlin, your fine." Arthur's voice is soft and reassuring but...

"Y'u" Merlin stumbles "Y'u, Art'ur..."

There's a silence where only Merlin's quick, harsh, ragged breaths pierce the air, then;

"Me?" Arthur asks disbelievingly, anger building. "Me?"

"Y..u..." Merlin's eyes slip closed, he can feel the deep pulling fingers of unconsciousness grasping at him. He tries to fight it. He has to. _He has to know..._

"Merlin you idiot!" Arthur all but shouts right in his poor ear. But then the prince's voice breaks into what sounds suspiciously like a sob. "You idiot... I'm fine. Not a scratch... you... you... idiot..." his tone is soft and fond, and his nose buries itself in the top of Merlin's hair, lips soft against his scalp. "Idiot..."

"Th'nk... Goodn'ss..." He's filled with sudden, startling relief. And then the fingers pull him away into the darkness. The unconsciousness. And he hurts no more.

**A/N: Awwwwwh! Merlin 3**

**So I'm up at Uni now! With INTERNET! (Took me half a hour to work out how it worked *facepalms*) XD**

**Thanks for reading! Drop me a review if you liked it! :D**

**Lenle G.**


	50. Chapter 50

Chapter Fifty 

Arthur looks down at the pale, skinny boy he has clasped to his chest.

_Merlin you idiot._

Gaius is poking at his bandages, frowning and tutting. He'd been just about to replace them with fresh ones when the boy had woken. Arthur's been holding him so that the old man could change the bandages for clean ones, and he still rested in the Prince's arms, though now mercifully unconscious.

_The idiot._

Merlin's first thought had been not for his own safety, that much had been clear from his thrashing and pitiful attempts at speech, but for Arthur's. The prince's jaw clenches painfully. He's not the one who had two stupid daggers in his chest.

_Idiotic Merlin._

Gaius is peeling the bandages away from his sweat-damp chest with careful fingers, to examine his stab wounds. Merlin had developed a fever over night, and now, rather than trying to warm the boy, they were trying desperately to bring his temperature down. Gaius is now lays clothes soaked in cold water on his brow, and turns back to inspecting the injuries. The too-thin chest heaves painfully with each breath, the cage of his ribs vivid through his skin. The wounds a mix of dark brown and crimson red, looking angry and raw and painful. Arthur, not for the first time, thanks the gods that nothing vital was hit.

_That idiot..._

"How are his wounds?" Arthur tries not to let the worry seep into his voice, but he feels like he's wallowing in deep water, so close to breaking down and drowning. But he has to stay strong. For Merlin.

"He seems to have just pulled the stitches slightly" Gaius frowns, examining the wounds. "They should be fine..." Both of them seem to breathe a simultaneous sigh of relief. "Right." Gaius says, businesslike. "Bandages."

Arthur doesn't miss the way the old man wipes at his eyes as he reaches for the roll.

"Gaius?"

The old man just shakes his head and sighs, beginning to wind a clean roll of gauze around the boy's fragile chest. Merlin's head is warm and comforting resting on his shoulder; he can feel the soft puff of each ragged breath the boy takes against his cheek. Merlin groans slightly, muscles tensing, as Gaius pulls the bandages tight and neatly ties them off.

The old man then moves to support the boy's head and together they guide him back onto his camp bed, so he's laying down comfortably, head and shoulders propped up by pillows that had somehow made their way here from Arthur's chambers. Gaius then picks up the vial he tried to give Merlin earlier, and coaxes the unconscious boy to drink it. Arthur wonders if it's to help with the pain.

When Merlin's drunk the whole thing, (which Arthur wrinkles his nose up at, wondering if it tastes as disgusting as it smells,) Gaius sighs, and pulls himself to his feet, stretching out his limbs as if they're sore for being cramped in one position for too long.

"Be careful not to wake him..." Is the old man's departing advice, as he potters off to browse the book he'd been reading earlier, and Arthur sits in the chair by his softly servant's side and softly strokes the boy's fringe.

In an hour or two (Arthur has lost track of time) there's a soft knock at the door, and Morgana enters, her delicate brows drawn together with worry.

"How is he?" She asks.

And Arthur can only shrug. He gives the same response to Gwaine and Gwen when they appear later, the latter bringing a pretty bouquet of soft blue and yellow flowers. The little yellow ones remind him of the morteous flower, that the Prince had once picked to save the boy's life from a terrible poison, and the feeling in Arthur's chest tightens. But he has to appear brave while they're here, trying to muster up some form of a smile as Gwaine makes little jokes, and Gwen softly strokes the boy's dark hair. Lancelot appears when they're gone. Then Percival. Then Elyan. And even Leon makes an appearance, standing quietly and solemnly before wishing them both well and presenting Arthur with a platter of food he feels too sick and tired to eat. But he forces the dry bread down anyway with the cold meats, trying not to choke on his grief, while the knights watch him with a careful eye, and Gaius reappears to check the boy's fever and pulse and numerous other things that Arthur has no idea of.

It's only when they're all gone, the sky is darkening with night, and he's stubbornly sat alone at Merlin's side, can the young Prince finally break down, his head resting on Merlin's shoulder... and cry.

**A/N: Hi all! Sorry I haven't been able to respond to reviews for the last couple of chapters! Please don't let this dishearten you from dropping me a review this time to tell me what you thought! I hope you all really liked this chapter. :)**

**Thanks for reading,**

**Lenle G**


	51. Chapter 51

Chapter Fifty One

Merlin has nightmares. Terrible cruel nightmares. Arthur has no idea what he might be dreaming about, but he whispers the best soothing words he can find, and strokes the boy's hair, and this seems to calm him.

He hasn't woken up again.

Not yet.

Gaius says that's good. Good that he's sleeping, healing, and peaceful. But Arthur's impatient. He wants to see those baby blues looking back at him. Because then he'll know Merlin's alright. That he's ok.

The crown prince has barely left the warlock's side, something his father probably disapproves heavily of. But Merlin's his responsibility now. So Uther can't complain. At least the sorcerer's being watched - that's what his father had said. But Arthur's not watching over a sense of obligation... He needs to see that Merlin's safe, that's he's ok. He just... needs to.

As Merlin's friend.

Not his master, not from obligation, not out of duty... but as his friend.

It'd been three weeks.

Three agonisingly slow weeks.

Merlin's fevers cleared up nicely and his breathing has evened out, and his wounds look angry and pink and the edges are puckered but they've healed over, forming tight scabs and Gaius had carefully taken out the stitches.

But still he lies unconscious.

Arthur suspects Gaius is probably drugging him to keeping him sleeping. Maybe that is better than him being in pain after all. Anyway, the idiot would probably rip his wounds back open if he were awake. By getting up and jumping around or something ridiculous, the idiot. Arthur runs a hand through the dark locks on the boy's head, and notes the bruising at his neck had finally faded to nothing. His skin is healthier looking and nowhere near as pale as it had been. Or as flushed with fever. Dark shadows that had blossomed under his eyes have almost disappeared, and his heart beats strongly in his ribcage.

He sighs.

"Merlin. You idiot. You'd should hurry up and get better..."

He's met by silence and sighs again.

"Mmmm..." Arthurs head snaps up to see Merlin turning over in his sleep, curling around his blankets and butting his head against Arthur's palm like a kitten might do. A small smile finds its way onto the prince's lips. "'thur..." Merlin's voice is sleepy and soft, cracked with disuse. Arthur freezes at the sound of his name, but the boy sleeps on, lips parted slightly, his breaths deep and even.

"Idiot... what are you doing?" Arthur sighs fondly. "Sleeping like that... you'll pull at your wounds..." He carefully pushes on Merlin's shoulder, encouraging him to roll back over, which he does while mumbling softly to himself, and Arthur tucks his blanket back in around him. "Idiot..."

"'thur..." Merlin sighs, frowning slightly at the lack of a hand in the dark hair. He scrunches up his nose in his sleep. Arthur tries his best to not think him adorable. Because Merlin is an idiot. Idiots aren't adorable...

But then somehow Merlin's hand has sneaked out from under the blanket and is grasping weakly for his own. Or did Arthur reach out and take it? He's not really sure.

The crown prince swallows hard, and slots their hands together.

Merlin mumbles his name again in his sleep, tossing his head to one side and mushing his cheek against the pillow.

And it's just when Arthur thinks' he's settled down again, and that Merlin's fast asleep once more, that the startling blue eyes slowly blink open.

"Arth...ur?"

**A.N: Awwwh! Merlin! 3**

**Thanks for reading! If you liked this chappie, drop me a review! They're greatly appreciated! :D **

**The end is near!  
**

**Lenle G.**


	52. Chapter 52

Chapter Fifty Two

"Arth...ur?" Merlin blinks blearily up at him. Arthur has to stare at him for a good five seconds before it finally registers that it's Merlin, awake and safe and alive, and looking back at him. He breathes an audible sigh of relief, grasping the fingers in his tighter.

"Hey Merlin." He smiles, trying not to let it waver, trying not to let the tears pool in his eyes, trying to just breathe. Merlin stares unfocusedly at him; a suspicious frown puzzles its way across his eyebrows like he's debating something very odd, and he knaws at his lip worriedly, causing Arthur's stomach to do worried, jerky back flips under his ribs. "What its it?"

"I'm... not dead?" The boy wonders aloud after a moment and leaves Arthur gasping with ridiculous relief and choking and spluttering on a bitter laugh, because Merlin was so very nearly...

So close to being...

Arthur had been so close to losing...

"Idiot." Arthur hangs his head so that his manservant can't see the tears pooling in his blue eyes. He takes a couple of great heaving deep breaths, and it takes a good few seconds for him to compose himself. By the time he has, he looks back up to see Merlin struggling to sit up with a pained look on his face. Arthur rolls his eyes, and slides his arms under the boy, to prop him up, as Merlin winces. The colour has all drained from his face, and Arthur feels a jolt of fear deep in his chest. "You ok?" Merlin gives him a pained wince in response, his eyes scrunching up and biting down on his lip.

"Give me a minute..." He stutters out, and Arthur nods acceptingly, if worriedly, and keeps his hands firmly under his back, steadily and carefully supporting him. "What exactly happened?" The warlock asks once some of the colour has returned to his face, and he's looking a bit less like he's going to keel over any second. Arthur stares at him. "Arthur...?"

"You were stabbed." The crown prince deadpans flatly, and Merlin glares at him and sticks out his tongue.

"Yeah, I realise that thanks." Then all the colour drains from his face for a entirely different reason. "Oh gods..." The horrible, terrified, haunted look in Merlin's sudden wide eyes drenches Arthur's heart in icy fear. "Your father..." he chokes out "he saw me do magic!" Merlin's face is bloodless, and he looks like he's choking on his own air, hands fisted tightly in the front of his own tunic as he gasps for breath. Tears well up in his wide, fearful eyes unbidden and run rivulets down his cheeks. "I'm gonna be hung!" Merlin cries out pitifully. The sound wrenching and twisting at something in the Prince's chest. "Arthur...!" He turns his wide, desperate gaze on the prince.

"Shh! Shhhh Merlin! It's ok!" Arthur quickly tightens his grip on the boy's back, trying to reassure him. "He's not! He's not going to do anything!" Arthur's face is determined and he's trying quickly and desperately to calm the panicked boy.

"But...!" Merlin's scrabbling at Arthur's own tunic now, and somehow he finds himself with an armful of Merlin again, curled up tight against his chest. The boy's harsh, pained breaths and sobs little are shudders against the Prince's skin, as Arthur rubs little circles on his back.

"It's ok!" Arthur tries to reassure his friend, trying to forcefully keep his own panic from his voice, resulting in it cracking slightly. "I've made him see sense! He's not going to hurt you. You think I'd let him?" The prince scoffs, and those two, big, blue, trusting eyes look up at him; so full of hope and faith that it takes Arthur's own breath away.

"How...?" comes the quiet, shocked, stammered question from the wide-eyed warlock and Arthur smiles softly, hoping he looks reassuring.

"I came to agreement with him." Arthur tells the boy "He'll leave you alone, but... you see... you're my... sort of...responsibility. We... I think we... sort of... have a chance to prove him wrong... about magic. You know?" Arthur clasps the Merlin's hands in his own, a determined look flashing across his face. "You and me... together."

And the brilliant smile Merlin breaks into is worth all the pain and trouble in the world.

"Oh Arthur..." He whispers softly, eyes warm and fond, and there a long, peaceful moment where they both just smile. Then his eyebrows meet in a frown. "What happened to Eldric?" He puzzles aloud "I remember throwing him... then... I don't know... Arthur?"

"You knocked him out quite spectacularly." There's an amused smile on his lips. "He's in the dungeons. Well chained up. He's not coming near anyone anytime soon." _He's not coming near you ever again, _Arthur swears to himself, clenching his fists determinedly._ Even if it's the last thing I do._

"Thank goodness..." Merlin sighs and it's as if all the air and tension leaves his body at once and he flops back against Arthur with a whoosh. He rubs a hand tiredly across his eyes. "So... what's going to happen?" The shake in Merlin's voice betrays his nervousness.

"First things first." Arthur's voice goes all **authoritative,** like it does when he's giving orders to his knights, comforting the people, or speaking to his father. "You're going to focus on getting better." He pauses while Merlin nods gingerly. "Then..." And Arthur barely registers or thinks about what he says next: "I want you to be my court sorcerer."

There's a long, empty moment when Merlin just stares at him, and Arthur wonders if he's going to laugh, but;

"What?" Comes the small, hesitant voice, tinged with hope, uncertainty and... trust.

"I have no idea." Arthur responds with a laugh. "I just thought of it. We used to have one right? A court sorcerer? Magician or something? Back before the ban? I think...We should have one again. You. You should be court sorcerer urm, warlock, person... Not right now of course!" he adds hurriedly at Merlin's startled look. "It was hard enough to convince my father not to execute you on principle... but... perhaps... when I am king... things... can be different."

Merlin's smile spreads slowly across his face like Arthur's favourite kind of fine, rich butter across granary bread.

"Arthur... I... you... thank you." Merlin's eyes glisten with happy tears and his hands shake lightly where they rest on Arthurs. "You don't know what this means to me... I... thank you... I... but in the meantime? Arthur? I..." he looks panicked again "I won't have to leave while your father is still King will I? I won't have to go!? I can't leave your side! I..."

"No!" Arthur jerks upright. "No! Of course not! Merlin... I... if you want... your job's still there... as my manservant... if... if you want it... I mean, I know I'm not always great to you..." Merlin snorts at this, a fond smile working its way onto his face. "And I'll try to stop throwing things at you..." Merlin outright laughs at this "but... I... urm... yeah. If you want, when your better, come back to work?"

"You're a self-centred prat sometimes Arthur." There's a long pause where Arthur stares, wounded, at the boy, but then Merlin breaks on in the most a spectacular grin, and Arthur knows he's only joking. "But I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Arthur clasps his best friend's hand tightly in his own.

"Me neither." He grins. "Just... don't you ever do that to me again. Do you hear me Merlin? I... I can take almost anything, fights, duties, all the..." he drop his voice down as if it's still some big secret "magic. Anything, Merlin, but... the thought of you..." Arthur hangs his head, hiding his eyes from the warlock. "... of loosing you... for some stupid reason... you're my best friend... and... I... I can't stand it... Seeing you hurt... Do you hear me Merlin?"

Before a startled Merlin can respond, Arthur continues; "I mean it! Stop being so... stubborn. If you need help, with, magic related things, or your workloads too much, or you need someone to go with you and pick herbs or flowers or whatever ridiculous girly things you do, just... ask for it... ok? What do you think I'm here for? Idiot." Arthur takes a deep breath and not-so-subtly wipes his eyes on his sleeve, then scuffs his knuckles lightly against Merlin's arm in what he feels in a good manly gesture. Because hugging the idiot would just be ridiculous. Right? "See what you've done! Turned me into a blubbering girl like you."

Merlin smiles sadly and fondly, and places his hand over Arthur's where it still rests just below his shoulder.

"I... I'm sorry... Arthur. I... If I ever do need you..."

"When you need me!" Arthur amends with a snort and a scowl.

"When I need you," Merlin smiles "I'll ask."

"Idiot." Arthur shakes his head. "Of course you will. Just don't forget I'm here."

"Like I could." Merlin snorts. "Your presence is overwhelming, Dollop-head."

"Girls Petticoat"

"Prat"

"Moron"

"Git"

"Imbecile"

"Fatty-" Merlin thinks for a moment "...nose."

"MERLIN!" Arthur springs up; his mock outrage betrayed by the grin on his face, "I am NOT FAT!"

Their collective laughter could be heard all the way down the corridor to where Gaius stood, the pail of water he'd gone to fetch clutched between both hands, shaking his head with a grin.

_They'd be alright. They'd look after each other._

_As long as they're together._

_Two sides of the same coin._

**A/N: Awww! Just the epilogue to go now! I hope you've really enjoyed reading this, thanks for being so supportive in your reviews, they mean a lot to me, and thanks for reading. **

**See you in the epilogue.**

**Lenle G.**


	53. Chapter 53

Chapter Fifty Three – Epilogue

"Merlin!" the warlock looks up at him sheepishly from under his fringe from his vantage point on the floor, bucket and brush in one hand, from where he'd been absently scrubbing at a mark on the flagstones. "Care to tell me what, exactly, is that." Arthur scowls, pointing across the room to where a mop is dunking itself in bucket of soapy water, and dancing its way across the floor. To where the sheets on his bed were folding themselves. To where the fire ashes were being swept out by a floating brush into a dustpan. To where his clothes were scrubbing themselves on a board in the bathtub, which was pouring its own warm soapy water.

"Ah..." Merlin blinks, eyes flashing briefly gold, and the objects all freeze. It's his first day back at work and he's already causing trouble for Arthur. "They're... um..." He rubs a hand on the back of his head absently. "Cleaning."

"Cleaning." Arthur repeats slowly, staring at him, dipping his chin down and raising his eyebrows disbelievingly. "Yes..." he states "I can see that... you idiot."

Merlin blinks up at him, mouth slightly agape.

"Urrr..."

_Thwack._

The chancel bounces off Merlin's head, which is snapped to the side and Arthur freezes, mouth slightly agape, hand still motionless from where he'd thrown the silverware. Merlin slowly turns to stare at him, sarcastic glare barely concealed behind a tight smile.

"I... I thought you'd catch it... with... you know..." Arthur wiggles around his fingers in what he clearly feels is an obviously magical manner.

Merlin rolls his eyes at him with a loud, long-suffering sigh.

"I can't catch it if I don't know its coming!"

"Idiot! What were you expecting! Using magic out here in the open! For something as menial as chores! You're my responsibility now and I..."

"Arthur," Merlin laughs with a small smile. "Just... let me do this much ok? It doesn't matter if I'm seen now does it? Everyone knows I have it, can use it. It doesn't matter who sees."

"Of course it matters! Look what happened last time!"

"Arthur" Merlin sighs, standing a little stiffly, and placing a warm hand on Merlin's forearm, "I'm fine, no lasting harm done, Eldric was captured, you're not hurt, and I get to stay in Camelot without having my head chopped off. All good all round I'd say. It doesn't really matter how I do my chores now anyway." Merlin chose not to tell him he'd been using magic for them because his healed-over wounds were aching. "You're a real idiot sometimes Arthur".

"Yeah well..." Arthur averts his eyes sheepishly, and rubs at the back of his head "I'm glad you're ok."

Merlin's smile is big and beautiful.

"Me too, Arthur" He grins "Me too."

Arthur laughs at this and goes to leave, off to conduct some important princely business no doubt, but then stops and turns, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Oh, and Merlin?" He claps his hands together, grinning like a child at a sweet stall.

"Yes?"

"If you're being lazy and using magic to do your chores," Arthur intones in his most purposefully officious, pompous voice, the slight grin on his lips the only thing betraying him, "I might as well give you a few more." Merlin chokes at this, his head whipping up to complain, but: "When you've finished the floor, my stables need mucking out, and my boots need cleaning, and my armour should be polished, I expect it to be spotless, my dogs need walking, and my chambers dusting, My clothes will have finished being washed and dried and folded, the fire needs building for tonight, my tea should be brought up, make sure there's sausages if you please, oh, and I'll want a bath when I get back." Merlin just stares at him, mouth hanging open, trying to ascertain if he's joking or not. "Well, what are you standing there gawping about Merlin, you idiot? Hop to it." And Arthur stalks out of the room with a truly evil smirk.

And if the rope belt of his breeches mysteriously comes loose as he walks, and they fall down around his ankles when he's halfway down the corridor, leaving the Crown Prince of Camelot only in his undergarments right at the moment Guinevere walks up the stairs, well, who's really to say it was the young warlock's fault.

Must have been the wind.

"MEERRRRLLIIIINNNN!"

The End.

**A/N: Gyaah! Sorry this diddy little chapter too me so long to write! I started Uni in September and I haven't had a single free moment to write in since I got here! Sorry for not being able to respond to a few of the past reviews either.**

**However, I really hope you've enjoyed this story despite my short chapter tendencies (Hey, at least I usually updated fast). Tehehe :)**

**Thanks so much for reading and to those of you who dropped me reviews, they mean a lot. **

**So yes, please tell me what you thought of my story, and I'll try to write you something else soon (hopefully a sequel)**

**Thanks again,**

**Lenle G**


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